the two I'd rather meet on the top of a berg, for they arevicious brutes both."
"I've read some very interesting accounts of them," said Allan, "in theencyclopaedias."
"So have I," laughed old Silas, "written by men who had never seen themout of the Brighton Aquarium. Pardon me, but you cannot study naturefrom books."
"Do you know the _Stemmatopus cristatus_?" inquired Rory.
"What ship, my boy?" said Silas, with one hand behind his ear; "I didn'tcatch the name o' the craft."
"It isn't a ship," said Rory, smiling; "it is a great black seal, with athing like a kettle-pot over his head."
"Oho!" cried Silas; "now I know. You mean the bladder-nose. Ay, lad!and a dangerous monster he is. A Greenland sailor would almost as soonface a bear as fight one of those brutes single-handed."
"But the books tell us," said Rory, "that, when surprised by the hunter,they weep copiously."
"Bother such books!" said Silas. "What? a bladder-nose weep!Crocodile's tears, then, lad! Why, gentlemen, this monstrous seal ismore fierce than any other I know. When once he gets his back up anderects that kettle-pot o' his, and turns round to see who is coming,stand clear, that's what Silas says, for he means mischief, and he's aswilling to take his death as any terrier dog that ever barked. I wouldlike to see some o' those cyclopaedia-building chaps face to face with ahealthy bladder-nose on a bit o' bay ice. I think I know which o' themwould do the weeping part of the business."
"Down south here," said McBain--"if we can call it south--the seals havetheir young on the ice, don't they?"
"You're right, sir," said Silas.
"And where do they go after that?"
"Away back to the far, far north," said Silas. "We follow them up asfar as we can. They live at the Pole."
"Ah!" said McBain; "and that, Captain Grig, is in itself a proof thatthere must be open water around the Pole."
"I haven't a doubt about it!" cried Silas; "and if you succeed ingetting there you'll see land and water too, mountains and streams, andmaybe a milder climate. Seals were never made to live down in the darkwater; they have eyes and lungs, even, if they are amphibious. Butlook! look! look, men, look!"
Silas started up from the table as he spoke, excitement expressed inevery lineament of his face. He pointed to the port from which atpresent the _Canny Scotia_ was plainly visible, about half a mile off,on the weather quarter. The men could be seen crowding up therattlings, and even manning the yards, and wildly waving their caps andarms in the air.
Silas threw the port open wide. "Listen!" he cried.
Our heroes held their breath, while over the water from the distantbarque came the sound of many voices cheering. Then the _Arrandoon's_rigging is manned, and glad shout after glad shout is sent them back.
Next moment Stevenson rushed into the cabin. "The seals! the seals!"was all he could say, or rather gasp.
"Are there many?" inquired several voices at once.--"Millions onmillions!" cried the mate; "the whole pack is black with them as far asever we can see from the mainmast head."
CHAPTER TWENTY.
SEAL-STALKING--A GLORIOUS DAY'S SPORT--PIPER PETER AND THE BEAR--ASTRANGE DUET--THE SEAL-STALKERS' RETURN.
It was about midnight on the 24th of April when the seals were sighted.Midnight, and the sun was low down on the horizon, but, for three longmonths, never more would it set or sink behind the sea of ice. Theweather was bright, bracing, beautiful. Not a cloud in the sky, andhardly wind enough to let the ships get well in through the pack,towards the place where the seals lay as thick as bees, and allunconscious of their approaching fate. But the _Arrandoon_ got steamup, and commenced forcing her way through the closely packed yet looselyfloating bergs, leaving behind her a wake of clear water, which made iteasy work for the _Scotia_ and the saucy little "two-stick yacht" tofollow her example.
My young reader must dismiss from his mind the idea of tall,mountainous, pinnacled icebergs, like those he sees in commonengravings. The ice was in heavy pieces, it is true, from forty tosixty or seventy feet square, and probably six feet out of water, withhummocks here and there, and piles of bay ice that looked like packs ofgigantic cards, but so flat and low upon the whole, that from themasthead a stretch of snow-clad ice could be seen, spreading westwardsand north for many and many a mile.
When even the power of steam failed to force the _Arrandoon_ fartherinto the pack, the ships were stopped, fires were banked and sails wereclewed, and all hands prepared for instant action. The men girt theirknives and steels around them, and threw their "Jowrie-tows" acrosstheir broad shoulders, and the officers, dressed in their sealingcostume, seized their rifles and shot-belts.
Next moment the bo's'n's shrill pipe sounded out in the still air, andthe order was shouted,--
"All hands over the side."
In five minutes more the ships were apparently deserted. You wouldn'thave heard a sound on board, for few were left but stewards and cooks;while little boy Freezing Powders and his wonderful cockatoo had it allto themselves down in the saloon of the great steamship. The boy wasbending down beside his favourite in the corner.
"What's the row? What's the row? What's the row?" the bird was saying.
"I don't know nuffin' more nor you do, Cockie," was the boy's reply;"but it strikes dis chile dat dey have all taken leave of der senses,ebery moder's son of dem. And de captain he have gone up into decrow's-nest, which looks for all de world like a big barrel of treacle,Cockie, and he have shut hisself in der, and nuffin' does he do but wavea long stick wid a black ball at de end of it. [The fan with whichGreenland captains guide their men in the direction of the seals.] Datis all de knows; but oh! Cockie, don't you take such drefful bigmouf-fuls o' hemp. Supposin' anyting happen to you, Cockie, den I habnobody to talk to dat fully understand dis chile."
The _Canny Scotia_ was moored to the ice so close to the _Arrandoon_that the captains of the respective ships could maintain a conversationwithout stressing their lungs to any very great extent. Talking thus,each in his own crow's-nest, they looked for all the world like a coupleof chimney-sweeps conversing together from rival chimneys. The cookswere not idle in the galleys, they were busy boiling hams and hugejoints of beef, and these, when cooked, were taken on deck; for sealingis hungry work, and every time a man brings a drag to the vessel's sidehe helps himself to a lordly slice and a biscuit.
By-and-by the draggers began to drop in fast enough, each one hauling animmense skin with the fat or blubber attached; and these skins were allhoisted on board the _Scotia_, for all hands were working for Silas.But our heroes had the sport, and, taking it all in all, I do not thinkthere is any sport in the world to compare to that of seal-stalking.Without any of the cowardliness of battue shooting, in which the poorsurrounded animals are helpless, and cruelly and mercilessly slain, youhave far more excitement, and the sport is not unattended with danger.To be a good seal-stalker you need the limbs of an athlete, the eye ofan excellent marksman, and all the stealth and cunning of a tabby cat ora Coromanche Indian. If your nerves are not well strung, or yourmuscles not like iron, you may fail to leap across the lane of darkwater that separates piece from piece; if you do fail and are notspeedily helped out, the current may drag you beneath the bergs, orthose dreadful sharks, that seldom are absent where blood is beingspilled on the sea of ice, may seize and pull you down to a fearfuldeath; if you are not a good shot, your seals will get away, for yourbullet _must_ pierce either neck or head; and, lastly, if you are notcunning, if you do not stalk with stealth, your seals will escape withthe speed of lightning.
On warm, sunny days the seals lie close and sleep soundly, but theyalways have their sentries set. Kill the sentry, and many others are atyour mercy; miss him, or merely wound him, and he gives the alarm_instanter_, and all the rest jump helter-skelter into the sea,according you a beautiful view of their tail-ends, which you don't findvery advantageous in the way of making a bag.
A good sealer, like a good skirmisher, takes advantage of every
bit ofcover, and many a death-blow is dealt from the shelter of a lump ofloose ice.
The gunners to-day, as they usually do, went on after the seals inskirmishing order, in one long line, each taking a breadth of aboutseventy or one hundred yards.
It was an hour past midnight before they left the ships. When it wasnine in the morning there was a kind of general assembly of the riflemento breakfast, behind a large square hummock of packed bay ice, and onlythe very oldest among them could believe that it was so late. [Thesestrange hummocks, which resemble, as already stated, huge packs ofcards, are formed of