they've killed the wallie and left him.Now won't I have a blow-out just?" and he licked his great chops inanticipation.
"Dear me?" continued Bruin, as the walrus turned right round andconfronted him; "why, they haven't quite killed you! Never mind,wallie, I'll put you out of pain, and I'll do it ever so gently. ThenI'll just have one leetle bite out of your loin, you know."
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"I guess you won't this journey," said Seth, bringing his rifle intoposition as the bear prepared to spring. "I reckon it'll be the otherway on, and b'ar's steak ain't to be sneezed at when it's nicelycooked."
Bang!
It was very soon over with that poor bear; he never even changed theposition into which he had thrown himself, but lay there dead, with hisgreat head on his paws like a gigantic dog asleep.
CHAPTER THIRTY ONE.
A COUNCIL--PREPARING FOR WINTER QUARTERS--THE ISLE OF ALBA AND ITSMAMMOTH CAVES--MAGNUS'S TALE--AT HIS BOY'S GRAVE.
The word "canny" is often applied to Scotchmen in a somewhat disparagingsense by those who do not know the meaning of the word, nor the truecharacter of the people on whom they choose to fix the epithet. Theword is derived from "can," signifying knowledge, ability, skill, etc,and probably a corruption of the Gaelic "caen" (head). The Scotch arepre-eminently a thinking nation, and, as a rule, they are individuallyskilful in their undertakings; they like to look before they leap, theylike to know what they have to do before they begin, but having begun,they work or fight with all their life and power. It was "canniness"that won for Robert Bruce the Battle of Bannockburn, it was thecanniness of Prince Charles Stuart that enabled him to defeat Sir JohnCope at the Battle of Dunbar. There is no nation in the world possessesmore "can" than the Scotch, although they are pretty well matched by theGermans. Prince Bismarck is the canniest man of the century.
"A Berlin! A Berlin!" was the somewhat childish cry of the volatileGaul, when war broke out betwixt his sturdy neighbour and him.
Yes, fair France, go to Berlin if you choose, only first and foremostyou have to overthrow--what? Oh! only one man. A very old one, too.Yonder he is, in that tent in the corner of a field, seated at a table,quietly solving, one would almost think, a chess problem. And so it is,but he is playing the game with living men, and every move he makes iscarefully studied. That old man in the tent, to which the wiresconverge from the field of battle, is General von Moltke, the bestsoldier that the world has ever known since the days of Bonaparte andWellington, and the _canniest_.
But the word "canny" never implies over-frugality or meanness, and Ibelieve my readers will go a long way through the world, without meetinga Scotchman who would not gladly share the last sixpence he had in theworld to benefit a friend.
Our Captain McBain was canny in the true sense of the word, and it wasthis canniness of his that induced him to call his officers, and everyone who could think and give an opinion, into the saloon two days afterthe events described in the last chapter.
After making a short speech, in which he stated his own ideas freely, hecalled upon them to express theirs.
"If," he concluded, "you think we have gone far enough north with theship, here, or near here, we will anchor; if you think we ought to pushon, I will take that barrier of ice to the north-east, and push and boreand forge and blast my way for many miles farther, and it may be we willstrike the open water around the Pole, if such open water exists."
"We are now," said Stevenson, after consulting for a short time with thesecond mate, with Magnus, and De Vere the aeronaut--"we are now nearly88 degrees north and 76 degrees west from the meridian; the season hasbeen a wonderful one, but will we have an open summer to find our wayback again if we push on farther?"
"No," cried old Magnus, with some vehemence; "no, such seasons as thesecome but once in ten years."
"I see how the land lies," said McBain, smiling, "and I am glad that weare all of the same way of thinking. Well, gentlemen, this decides me;we shall winter where we are."
"Hurrah!" cried Stevenson; "we wouldn't have gone contrary to yourwishes for the world, captain, but I'm sure we will be all delighted togo into winter quarters."
After this the _Arrandoon_ was kept away more to the west, where thewater was clearer of bergs, and where mountainous land was seen to lie.
They steamed along this land or shore for many miles, although lightedonly by the bright silvery stars and the gleaming Aurora. They came atlength to a small landlocked bay or gulf, entirely filled with flat ice.The ship was stopped, and all hands ordered away to a clear a passageby means of ice-saws and torpedoes. After many hours of hard work thiswas successfully accomplished, and the vessel was warped in till she layclose under the lee of the braeland, that rose steeply up from thesurface of the sea. Those braes were to the north and west of them, andwould help to shelter the ship from at least one of the coldest winds.
"Well, boys," said McBain that day as they sat down to dinner, and hespoke more cheerfully than he had done since the departure of the_Scotia_,--"well, boys, here we are safe and snug in winter quarters.How do you like the prospect of living here for three months withoutever catching a blink of the sun?"
"I for one don't mind it a bit," said Allan. "It'll do us all good; butwon't we be glad to see the jolly visage of old Sol again, when he peepsover the hills to see whether we are dead or alive!"
"I'm sure," said Rory, "that I will enjoy the fun immensely."
"What fun?" asked Ralph.
"Why, the new sensation," replied Rory; "a winter at the Pole."
"You're not quite there yet," said Ralph; "but as for me, I think I'llenjoy it too, though of course winter in London would be more lively.Why, what is that green-looking stuff in those glasses, doctor?"
"That's your dram," said Sandy.
"Why it's lime-juice," cried Rory, tasting his glass and making a face.
"So it is," said Ralph. "Where are the sugar-plums, doctor?"
"Yes," cried Rory; "where are the plums? Oh!" he continued, "I haveit--a drop of Silas Grig's green ginger, steward, quick."
And every day throughout the winter, when our heroes swallowed theirdose of lime-juice, they were allowed a tiny drop of green ginger to putaway the taste, and as they sipped it, they never failed to think andtalk of honest Silas.
And lime-juice was served out by the surgeon to all hands. They knewwell it was to keep scurvy at bay, so they quietly took their dose andsaid nothing.
The sea remained open for about a week longer, and scores of bears werebagged. [These animals are said to bury themselves in the snow duringwinter, and sleep soundly for two or three months. This, however, isdoubtful.] This seemed, indeed, to be the autumn home of the King ofthe Ice. Then the winter began to close in in earnest, and all savingthe noonday twilight deserted them. The sky, however, remained clearand starry, and many wonderful meteors were seen almost nightly shootingacross the firmament, and for a time lighting up the strange anddesolate scene with a brightness like the noon of day. The Aurora wasclearer and more dazzling after the frost came, so that as far as lightwas concerned the sun was not so much missed.
On going on deck one morning our heroes were astonished to find a lightgleaming down upon them from the maintop, of such dazzling whitenessthat they were fain, for the moment, to press their hands against theireyes.
It was an electric candle, means for erecting which McBain had providedhimself with before leaving the Clyde. So successful was he with hisexperiment that the sea of ice on the one hand, and the braeland on theother, seemed enshrouded in gloom. Rory gazed in ecstasy, then he mustneeds walk up to McBain and shake him enthusiastically by the hand,laughing as he remarked,--
"'Deed, indeed, captain, you're a wonderful man. Whatever made youthink of this? What a glorious surprise. Have you any more in storefor us? Really! sir, I don't know what your boys would do without youat all at all."
Thus spoke impulsive young Rory, as McBain laughingly retu
rned hishand-shake, while high overhead the new light eclipsed the radiance ofthe brightest stars. But what is that strange, mournful cry that isheard among the hills far up above them? It comes nearer and still morenear, and then out from the gloom swoops a gigantic bird. Attracted bythe light, it has come from afar, and now keeps wheeling round and roundit. Previously there had not been a bird visible for many days, butnow, curious to relate, they come in hundreds, and even alight close bythe ship to feed on the refuse that has been thrown overboard.
"It is strange, isn't it, sir?" said Rory.
"It is, indeed,"