seen even from the quarter-deck. But the frostseemed to grow momentarily more intense, and the bay- ce stronger andharder between the bergs. Never mind, that only stimulated the men togreater exertions. It was a battle for freedom, and they meant to win.With well-meaning though ridiculous doggerel, Ted Wilson led themusic,--
"Work and keep warm, boys; heave and keep hot, Jack Frost thinks he's clever; we'll show him he's not. Beyond is the sea, boys; Let us fight and get free, boys; One thing will keep boiling, and that is the pot. With a heave O! Push and she'll go. To work and to fight is the bold sailor's lot. Heave O--O--O!
"Go fetch me the lubber who won't bear a hand, We'll feed him on blubber, we'll stuff him with sand. But yonder our ships, boys, Ere they get in the nips, boys, We'll wrestle and work, as long's we can stand, Then cheerily has it, men, Heave O--O--O! Merrily has it, men, Off we go, O--O--O!"
Yes, reader, and away they went, and in one more hour they were clear ofthe ice, _the Arrandoon_ had cast the _Scotia_ off, and banked herfires, for, together with her consort, she was to sail, not steam, downto the island of Jan Mayen, where they were to take on board thesleigh-dogs, and bid farewell to Captain Cobb, the bold Yankeeastronomer.--There was but little wind, but they made the most of whatthere was. Silas dined on board that day, as usual. They weredetermined to have as much of the worthy old sailor as they could. Butbefore dinner one good action was performed by McBain in Captain Grig'spresence. First he called all hands, and ordered them aft; then heasked Ted Wilson to step forward, and addressed him briefly as follows:
"Mr Wilson, I find I can do with another mate, and I appoint you to thepost."
Ted was a little taken aback; a brighter light came into his eyes; hemuttered something--thanks, I suppose--but the men's cheering drownedhis voice. Then our heroes shook hands with him all around, and McBaingave the order,--
"Pipe down."
But as soon as Ted Wilson returned to his shipmates they shouldered him,and carried him high and dry right away forward, and so down below.
CHAPTER TWENTY EIGHT.
A WONDERFUL YANKEE--"MAKING OFF" SKINS--PREPARING TO "BEAR UP"--THESUMMER HOME OF THE GIANT WALRUS--THE SHIPS PART.
In two days the ships sighted the island of Jan Mayen. As they nearedit, they found the ice so closely packed around the shore that allapproach even by boats was out of the question, so the sails wereclewed, the ice-anchors got out, and both ships made fast to the floe.
It was not long ere Captain Cobb was on board the _Arrandoon_, towelcome our heroes back to "_his_ island of Jan Mayen."
He was profuse in his thanks for what he called the clever kindness ofCaptain McBain, in saving his little yacht from a fatal accident amongthe ice; and, of course, they would do him the honour to come on shoreand dine with him. He would take it as downright "mean" if they didnot.
There was no resisting such an appeal as this, so, leaving their shipsin charge of their respective mates, both McBain and Silas, in companywith our heroes--Sandy McFlail, Seth, and all--they trudged off over thesnowy bergs to take dinner in the hut of the bold Yankee astronomer.Very unprepossessing, indeed, was the building to behold from theoutside, but no sooner had they entered, than they opened their eyeswide with astonishment.
When our young friends had visited it before, the hut looked neithermore nor less than a big hall, or rather barn. But now--why, here wereall the luxuries of civilised life. The place was divided intoante-room, saloon, and bed-chamber, and each apartment seemed morecomfortable than another. The walls of the saloon were covered withrich tapestry, the floor with a soft thick carpet. There were couchesand easy-chairs and skins _galore_, and books and musical instruments.A great stove, of American pattern, burned in the centre, giving outwarmth and making the room look doubly cheerful, and overhead swung animmense lamp, which shed a soft, effulgent light everywhere, so that onedid not miss the windows, of which the hut was _minus_. At one end ofthis apartment was a dining-table, as well laid and as prettily arrangedas if it stood in the dining-hall of a club-room in Pall Mall, andbeside the table were two sable waiters clad in white.
Captain Cobb seemed to thoroughly enjoy the looks of bewilderment andwonder exhibited on the faces of his guests.
"Why," said McBain at last, "pardon me, but you Yankees are about themost wonderful people on the face of the earth."
"Waal," said the Yankee, "I guess we like our little comforts, and don'tsee any harm in having them."
"So long's we deserve them," put in Seth, who, at that moment, reallyfelt very proud of being a Yankee.
"Bravo! old man," cried his countryman; "let us shake your hand."
"And now, gentlemen," he continued, "sit in. I reckon the keen air andthe walk have given ye all an appetite."
Soups, fish, _entries_, joints--why I do not know what there was not inthe bill-of-fare. It was a banquet fit for a king.
"I can't make out how you manage it," said McBain. "Do you keep adjin?"
Cobb laughed and summoned the cook. If he was not a djin, he was justas ugly. Four feet high--not an inch more--with long arms, black skin,flat face, and no nose at all worth mentioning. He was dressed as a_chef_, however, and very polite, for at a motion from his master, hesalaamed very prettily and retired.
At dessert the host produced a zither, and, accompanying himself on thisbeautiful instrument, sang to them. He drawled while talking, but hesang most sweetly, and with a taste and feeling that quite charmed Rory,and held Silas and the doctor spell-bound. He was indeed a wonderfulYankee.
"Do you know," said Rory, "I feel for all the world like being in anenchanted cave? Do sing again, if only one song."
It is needless to add that our friends spent the evening most enjoyably.It was a red-letter night, and one they often looked back to withpleasure, and talked about as they lay around their snuggery fire,during the long dreary time they spent in the regions round the Pole.
"I'm glad, anyhow," said Captain Cobb, as he bade them good-bye on thesnow-clad beach, "that I've made it a kind o' pleasant for ye. Don'tforget to call as you come back, and if Cobb be here, why, Cobb will bidyou welcome. Farewell."
By eight bells in next morning watch everything was ready for a start.The dogs--twelve in number--were got on board and duly kennelled, andthe old trapper was installed as whipper-in.
"But I guess," said Seth, "there won't be much whipping-in in the play.Trapper Seth is one of those rare old birds who know the differencebetween a dog and a door-knocker. Yes, Seth knows that there's more ina good bed and a biscuit, with a kind word whenever it is needed, thanthere is in all the cruel whips in existence."
The kennelling for the poor animals was got up under the supervision ofAp and Seth himself. It was built on what the trapper called"scientific principles."
There was a yard or ran in common for the whole pack; but the large,roomy sleeping compartment had a bench, on which all twelve dogs couldsleep or lie at once, yet nevertheless it was divided by boards about afoot high into six divisions. This was to prevent the dogs all tumblinginto a heap when the ship rolled. The bedding was straw and shavings;of the former commodity McBain had not forgotten to lay in a plentifulsupply before leaving Scotland. There was, besides, a whole tankful ofSpratts' biscuits, so that what with these and the ship's scraps, it didnot seem at all likely that the dogs would go hungry to bed for sometime to come.
Seth was now much happier on board than ever he had been, because he hadduties to perform and an office to fill, humble though it might be.
At half-past eight Silas came on board the _Arrandoon_ to breakfast.Allan and Rory were tramping rapidly up and down the deck to keepthemselves warm, for, though the wind was blowing west-south-west, itwas bitterly cold, and the "barber" was blowing. The barber is a namegiven to a light vapoury mist that, when the frost is intense and thewind in pertain directions, is seen rising off the sea in Greenland. Ihave call
ed it a mist, but it in reality partakes more of the nature ofsteam, being due to the circumstance of the air being ever so muchcolder than the surface of the water.
Oh! but it is a cold steam--a bitter, biting, killing steam. Woe be tothe man who exposes his ears to it, or who does not keep constantlyrubbing his nose when walking or sailing in it, for want of precautionin this respect may result in the loss of ears or nose, and bothappendages are useful, not to say ornamental.
"Good morning," cried Silas, jumping down on to the deck.
"The top of the morning to you, friend Silas," said Rory; "how do youfeel after your blow-out at Captain Cobb's?"
"Fust-rate," said Silas--"just fust-rate; but where is Ralph