Boy With the U. S. Life-Savers

  CHAPTER VII

  REINDEER TO THE RESCUE

  When, the following morning, Eric awoke to consciousness in his bunk onthe _Itasca_ he found himself the hero of the hour. He had beenwell-liked in his class before, but his daring feat increased thistenfold. Like all clean-cut Americans, the cadets held plucky manlinessto be the most worth-while thing in the world. The surgeon, who wasbandaging his burns, told him, in answer to the boy's questions, thatthe rescued man would probably recover.

  "You're not the only one I've got to take care of, though," the doctorsaid to him. "Van Sluyd's in sick bay this morning, too."

  "What's the matter with him?" queried Eric.

  "Van Sluyd's got grit," was the reply.

  "What did he do?"

  "I'm just going to tell you. About half an hour after the two of you hadbeen brought on board, and while I was still examining your burns, VanSluyd came up and asked if he could have a word with me.

  "'Of course,' I answered, 'what's on your mind?'

  "'My father's a doctor,' he said, 'and I've picked up a little medicine.Is the fellow that Swift rescued badly burned?'

  "'Yes,' I answered, 'he is.'

  "'Wouldn't he have a better chance if some skin-grafting were done?'

  "'Not a bit of doubt of it,' said I.

  "'Then,' he said, 'if it won't incapacitate me for the service, you cango ahead on me.'"

  "Who'd have thought it of Van Sluyd!" exclaimed Eric. "Talk about nerve,that's the real thing! What did you do, Doctor?"

  "I went and had a chat with the captain and told him just what wasneeded. I told him that it would put Van Sluyd out of active trainingfor several weeks and might set him back in his examinations."

  "What did the captain say?" questioned the boy.

  "He just asked me if I thought that the man's recovery was in any waydependent on it, and when I said I thought it was, he answered that Icould go ahead. You can be sure Van Sluyd won't lose out by it."

  "But won't it cripple him?"

  "Not a bit," the surgeon answered. "I'll just take a few square inchesof skin off the thigh and he'll be all right in a few weeks."

  "Won't he have an awful scar?"

  "There'll be a bit of a scar. But he won't have any more scars than you,at that, my boy."

  "Are my feet going to take a long time to heal, Doctor?"

  "I'm afraid it'll be quite a while before they feel all right. We'llhave you up and around before examinations, however, just the same.That's more than I can say for my other patient, though. He's badlyburned."

  "Have you found out who he was?" queried Eric.

  "Certainly. He's the chief engineer of the craft, or, to speak morerightly, he was the chief engineer."

  "How do you suppose he got left behind?"

  "That's quite a story," the surgeon answered, as he tore off a piece ofbandage. "He's too sick to do much talking, but it seems that when thefire was reported beyond control he sent all hands on deck out of theengine room, remaining behind himself to look after the pump-engines.The passengers and crew immediately took to the boats. When he tried toget up on deck a few minutes later he found that he was cut off. He hadto get a crowbar and wrench his way through an iron grating, before hecould get to the open air.

  "In the meantime, every one supposed that he was in one or other of theboats, and they had pushed off, leaving him marooned. For an hour ormore the flames smoldered, and the deck was quite bearable. He tried togather materials for a raft, but almost everything on the ship was iron.The cabin fittings were wood, but he couldn't find an ax, the socketswhere the axes were usually kept being empty.

  "Then he remembered that the wireless instruments were clamped on to awooden bench and he went into the deck-house to try to tear that apart.The door slammed as he went in, and while he was yanking at the benchthe ship buckled and the pressure jammed the door, making him aprisoner. He seems to remember very little after that, but he must havetried hard to get out, for he broke his arm in some way."

  "How about the wireless messages?"

  "He says the operator had jotted down the original message he had sent,and he tried to repeat it as best he could. Of course all that laststuff no one could understand was sent when he was semi-conscious."

  Eric winced as the other touched his shoulder.

  "Get ready now," the surgeon said, "I'm going to snap that bone backinto place. Ready?"

  "Go ahead," the boy answered through set teeth.

  The surgeon gave a quick sharp twist and there was a click as theshoulder went back.

  "That's going to be a bit sore for a while," he said, "but you ought tobe mighty thankful you put it out of joint."

  "Why?"

  "You'd have broken something instead, if it hadn't slipped," was thereply; "you must have hit that door an awful welt, for you're bruised onthat side from the shoulder down. Just black and blue with a few touchesof reddish purple. You're an impressionist sketch on the bruise line, Itell you! But there's nothing serious there. Using your carcass for abattering ram is apt to make a few contusions, and you've done well toget off so easily."

  "I had to get into that deck-house. I wanted to be sure no one wasthere."

  "It took more than wanting," the surgeon said, "you must have been justabout crazy. A man's got to be nearly in the state of a maniac beforehe'll hurl himself against an iron door like that without thinking ofthe consequences to himself. You were out of your head with pain, Swift,the way it looks to me, you'd never have tried it in your sober senses."

  "Glad I got crazy, then, Doctor," said Eric, gingerly moving himself afraction of an inch, but wincing as he did so; "if I hadn't, I'd havefailed."

  "Well," the surgeon said, rising to go, "I think the fates have beenmighty good to you, Swift, if you ask me. There's many a man has thedaring and the pluck to do what you've done, but never has the chance.You had your chance. And you made good!"

  As a matter of course, Eric's bunk became a center round which the othercadets gravitated, and his classmates did everything they could to makethings as pleasant for him as possible. He was glad, none the less, whentwo or three days later, he was told that he might go up on deck.

  The boy was scarcely aware of it, but with his shoulder and arm bandagedand both feet heavily swathed, he made rather a pathetic sight, whichhis white and drawn face accentuated. A hammock had been rigged up onthe sunny side of the deck and to this he was carried.

  Just as soon as he appeared on deck, for an instant there was acessation of all work that was going on. Then, suddenly, started by noone knew whom, from the throat of every man on deck came a burst ofcheers. It was the tribute of gallant men to a gallant lad.

  Weakly, and with a lump in his throat, Eric saluted with his left hand,in reply.

  It was an infraction of discipline, no doubt, but the officer in chargeof the deck ignored it. Indeed, he was afterwards heard to say that hehad difficulty in not joining in himself. A little later in the day, thecaptain himself came on deck. Before going below, he came amidshipswhere Eric was lying, feeling weak, but thoroughly happy.

  "I have the pleasure of informing you, Mr. Swift," he said, formally,"that I have entered your name in the ship's log for distinguishedservices."

  This was more than Eric could have hoped for and he saluted gratefully.The boy realized how much more significant was this actual visit of thecaptain than if it had followed the usual custom of a message sentthrough the executive officer of the ship, and his pride and delight inthe Coast Guard was multiplied.

  Naturally, under the conditions, there was a slight relaxation ofdiscipline in Eric's case, and more than once the first lieutenant cameand chatted to the lad. Finding out that he was especially interested inAlaska, the lieutenant talked with him about the work of the Coast Guardin the Bering Sea and the Arctic Ocean. The officer was an enthusiastabout the Eskimo, holding them to be a magnificent race, enduring therigors of the far north and holding themselves clean from the vices ofcivilization. As one of his clas
smates was taking up Eskimo language,Eric also took up the study of it, since he had spare time on his handswhile in sick-bay. Meantime, however, he kept up his studies at topnotch.

  The value of the Eskimo language to him, however, Eric never realizeduntil the close of his third year. Though limping a good deal, he hadbeen able to be up and around for a month before the exams and he hadbeen slaving like a forty-mule team. Still, work as hard as he could,the boy was conscious that there were others who could surpass him.Especially there was one, a fellow called Pym Arbuthnot, who was a hardcompetitor.

  COAST GUARD CUTTER, _MIAMI_, ON JULY FOURTH.

  Vessel on which Eric was lieutenant, dressed for national holiday andfiring a salute.

  Courtesy of U.S. Coast Guard.]

  They used to say of Pym that he could learn a subject by looking at theoutside of a book, and his memory was as retentive as his acquisitionwas quick. He was always first--in everything but mathematics. ThereEric had him. Often he blessed the memory of the old puzzle-maker, asweek by week his success in mathematics kept him right abreast of hisrival. When at last the exams came off and the lists were made known,Eric was second. He had not quite been able to catch up with Pym, whowas first, as every one had expected. To Eric's great delight, moreover,Homer was first in the engineering class.

  About a week later, the commandant called him into his office.

  "Lieutenant Swift," he said, and the boy's face glowed at this firstuse of the title, "you have been commissioned and ordered to the _Bear_.I am told that you know a little Eskimo."

  "Yes, sir, a little," Eric answered.

  "Your showing in the Academy has been creditable," the commandantcontinued, "and I have the pleasure of informing you that yourappointment as United States Commissioner on the _Bear_ on her next triphas been forwarded to me," and he touched a paper lying on the desk.

  "I have to thank Mr. Sutherland for that, sir," Eric answered.

  "It is a matter of record, sir," the commandant answered a triflesternly, "that you have done your duty. Appointments in the Coast Guard,Mr. Swift, are made upon the single basis of efficiency and fitness. Ihave the honor to congratulate you upon your commission and to wish youwell."

  Walking from the commandant's office, Eric, now "Lieutenant Swift," metthe first lieutenant. He looked so excited that the officer stopped andspoke to him.

  "You wanted to speak to me?"

  "I've been ordered to the _Bear_, sir," blurted out Eric, for a momentdropping the official speech and talking eagerly, "and I've got theCommissionership, too!"

  The first lieutenant raised his eyebrows slightly at the conversationalform of address, but he realized that the boy was bubbling over with hisnews.

  "I'm very glad, Mr. Swift," he said heartily; "perhaps you'll be able touse a little of that Eskimo you learned."

  "I'm so grateful to you, Mr. Sutherland," Eric began, but the otherstopped him with a slight gesture.

  "I rather envy you your first trip into the Arctic," he said; "it's anexperience that no one ever forgets. And you will find out for yourselfwhether I have overestimated the Eskimo as a race." He put his handkindly on the lad's shoulder, as he noticed the slight limp, andremembered.

  "You're going to extremes," he continued; "from the red-hot decks of aburning ship to the ice hummocks of the polar seas. In that country I'llpass on to you a word of warning that Commodore Peary once gave me. Makeit your motto in the Arctic. It is this--'Be bold, but neverdesperate.'"

  With a grateful answer, and with his commission as third lieutenant andhis appointment as United States Commissioner in his hand, Eric walkedout a full-fledged officer of the Coast Guard and Uncle Sam'srepresentative in the Arctic seas.

  Several weeks later, Eric reported on board the _Bear_. He had brokenhis trip west for a couple of days at home and had managed to snatch thetime to run up to his old Coast Guard station and to visit his friend,the puzzle-maker. He really felt that he owed the initial success of hiscareer to the old mathematician, and in this he was far more nearlyright even than he imagined. He carried with him into the Arctic the oldman's last advice.

  "I'm gittin' old," the puzzle-maker had said to him, "not here when youcome back. Life--he is like figuring, you think him straight, you workhim careful, right every time!"

  It was with a keen delight that Eric realized, when he boarded the_Bear_, that sailorship was not merely a thing of the books. Although heknew that the Coast Guard vessel was a converted whaler, it had neverfixed itself in his mind that the _Bear_ was a sailing vessel withauxiliary steam, and that she was handled as a sailing vessel.Barkentine-rigged, with square sails on the foremast and fore-and-aftrig on her main and mizzen, Eric found later by experience that hersailing powers were first-class. His delight in the handling of the shipadded to his popularity with his brother officers, all of whom, as oldermen, had been trained in clipper days.

  At Seattle the _Bear_ took aboard the mail for Nome and St. Michael.This consisted of over 400 sacks, an indication of the growth of a citywhich in the spring of 1897 consisted only of a row of tents on a barrenbeach. At Unalaska, in the Aleutian Islands, five destitute natives weretaken aboard the _Bear_ for transportation to their homes in St.Michael.

  Off Nunivak Island, Eric had his first sight of polar ice, but the packwas well broken up and gave little trouble. Norton Sound wascomparatively free of ice, however, and the _Bear_ reached St. Michael'sten days later. As St. Michael's Bay was filled with ice-floes, thevessel anchored to await favorable conditions for landing mail. A "lead"or opening in the ice having formed between Whale Island and themainland, after a clear night's work, the Coast Guard cutter dropped heranchors inside the ice. A couple of days later the floes cleared partlyaway and the _Bear_ crossed over to Nome.

  Endeavoring to make St. Lawrence Island, where the head governmentreindeer herder was to be landed, the _Bear_ struck a heavy ice pack,and the little vessel had to give up the attempt to land. She worked tothe northeast, out of the ice, and the captain changed the ship's coursefor King Island.

  This was the first opportunity Eric had to use his U. S.Commissionership. One of the natives, who had been associated with thewhite prospectors, was accused of ill-treatment towards his children, avery unusual condition in the Arctic. He had boasted a good deal to theother natives that the United States had no judges so far north, andthat the white men could not punish him. In order to teach him a lesson,Eric heard the case, found the man guilty and sentenced the native to aday's imprisonment in the ship's brig, in irons, releasing him shortlybefore the vessel sailed. A sick native, with his wife and three smallchildren were taken on board, for transportation to the hospital atNome.

  The young lieutenant also made an inspection of Prince of Wales village.During the entire winter there had not been a single case of disturbanceand hardly a case of sickness.

  "There are mighty few villages of the same size in the States," said thesurgeon to Eric, as they were returning to the boat, "which could showas good a record as these Eskimo villages. Nobody sick, nobody living oncharity, nobody headed for jail!"

  Returning to Nome, what was Eric's delight to find Homer Tierre awaitingthem! He had been assigned to duty on the _Bear_ to relieve one of thejuniors, who had been assigned to another cutter, and the two youngofficers greeted each other warmly. The head government reindeer-herderwas eager to get to his post, so the _Bear_ made a second attempt, thistime successfully.

  On the island only one case came up before Eric as United StatesCommissioner, that of a native who had allowed his dogs to run in thereindeer herds, four deer having been killed. Eric, before whom the casewas tried, ruled that the native should be made to pay for the deer. Asthe margin of living in those barren islands is very small, this wasquite a heavy punishment, and struck terror into the hearts of thenatives. They had been ignoring the government's regulations concerningthe corralling of the huskies, believing that there was no one withpower to punish infractions of the law.

  From there the _Bear_ w
ent to Cape Prince of Wales, and here Eric fellin with Joey Blake, the former first mate of one of the whaling vesselsrescued by the famous Overland Expedition in 1897. For the first timeEric heard the whole story of that heroic trip when the Coast Guard sentthree men to save the lives of three hundred men, imprisoned in thepolar ice. He heard how the men who were now his brother officers haddone that which no white man had ever done before, how they had gonefrom Nome to Point Barrow in the dead of winter, their only base ofsupport in those months of frozen night being their own fortitude andresourcefulness.

  Joey Blake, now in charge of the Point Barrow station of one of thecommercial whaling companies, waxed eloquent as he told how the CoastGuard men had risked their lives over and over again, to reach the herdof reindeer, who might be driven on the hoof over mountains that hadnever before been crossed. He told how, thereby, they had saved fromstarvation and death the crews of several vessels fast in the crushinggrasp of the ice-pack of the Arctic Seas. From one of the men who owedhis life to that magnificent piece of daring, Eric learned the tale ofthe great march across the ice and round the inhospitable shores in thebleak darkness of the Arctic night. He understood why Congress had votedspecial thanks and medals to the three men who carried to success thegreatest rescue in Arctic history, full as that record has been ofsacrifice and heroism.

  THE _BEAR_ IN THE ICE PACK.

  Courtesy of U.S. Coast Guard.]

  THE _BEAR_ BREAKING FREE FROM THE ICE.

  Whaler, still fast, left behind, while Coast Guard cutter forces her wayclear.

  Courtesy of U.S. Coast Guard.]

  In November, 1897, word reached the United States that eight whalingvessels, with 287 men on board, were fast in the ice north of PointBarrow. Nothing was known of their condition, save that the provisionsof the entire fleet could not be counted upon to give them food beyondthe end of January. Possibly hunting and fishing might enable this to bespun out a month or so, but not more. The way through Bering Straitswould not be open until June, at the earliest. Starvation, therefore,was imminent. The United States Government naturally turned to the CoastGuard--then known as the Revenue Cutter Service--well assured thatwhatever was possible in the realm of human courage and skill would bedone.

  Between the marooned whalers and civilization lay a thousand miles andmore of the most fearful road that man has ever had to travel, a roaduntrod, with cold like to the bitterness of death as its constant stateand the howl of the blizzard for its sole companion. Not only must thisblind and awful trail be conquered, with possible disaster in every mileand a sure heritage of suffering and pain in every step, but foodsufficient to last 300 men for over four months had to be taken overthose desolate wastes.

  The _Bear_, though only three weeks back from a six months' cruise inArctic waters, was ordered back to the desperate attempt. There was noneed to ask for volunteers in the Revenue Cutter Service. Every man inthe service, from the most recently enlisted man to the CaptainCommandant would have stepped forward. As it was, the expeditioncontained three of the ablest and most vigorous men in the entireservice. It was under the command of Lieutenant Jarvis, with LieutenantBertholf (now the Captain Commandant of the Coast Guard) as the secondin command. Only one other white man, Surgeon Call, accompanied theexpedition.

  The _Bear_, under sail and steam, headed for the north. Every milegained by sea meant a vast help to the expedition. Yet, when Cape Nomewas still 85 miles distant, the little vessel ran into thick mush-ice.Beating around for clearer water the wind began to die down and the_Bear_ was almost caught. Had she been frozen in then, ten miles to theeast of Southeast Cape, the expedition would have been frustrated andthe whalers left unrescued. It was a narrow escape and the commander ofthe _Bear_ turned back to Cape Vancouver, and the next morning steamedto within five miles of a native village, not marked on any chart, butvisible from the ship.

  Minutes counted, and two boats were sent off to the shore. Thesettlement was found to be the village of Tununak, in which, by goodfortune, was a half-breed trader, Alexis, who had dogs. On December 18ththe overland expedition started, far south of Nome, with four sleds andforty-one dogs, nine dogs being harnessed to each of the sleds belongingto Alexis and fourteen to the heavy one from the ship. From Tununak theywent to Ukogamute, and because a southeast wind had cleared away the icefrom the shore, the party was compelled to climb a range of mountainsbetween the two villages.

  "Did you ever climb a mountain with a dog team?" queried Joey Blake."Take my word, it's some job. You've got to tackle a thing like that toget the heartbreak of it. It's bad enough to have to run ahead of a dogteam on the level, but in mountain country it's something fierce."

  "Do you have to run ahead of the dogs?" Eric said in surprise. "Whatfor? To break a trail?"

  "Sure. A dog team can trot faster than a man can walk but not as fast ashe can run. So a fellow's got to run in the deep snow a hundred yards orso, then walk, then run, an' so on. I met Alexis a year or two after theexpedition an' he told me all his troubles. They got to the top of themountain, he said, in the midst of a furious snowstorm. It was so thickthat the natives could not decide on the road an' it was impossible tostay up on the crest without freezin' to death. At last they decided tochance it. The side of the mountain was so steep that the dogs couldn'tkeep up with the sleds an' there was nothing to do but toboggan to thebottom of the hill.

  "What fun," exclaimed Eric.

  "Ye-es," the other said dubiously, "but it was a two-thousand-footslide! They wound small chains around the runners of the sleds to tryan' check their speed a little, an' hoping that they wouldn't hitanything, let 'em go. Just as the first sled had begun slidin', Alexistold me he called out that he thought they were a little too much to thenorth an' all the sleds would go off a precipice into the sea. It wastoo late to stop, then. It took three hours to climb one side of themountain, an' less than three minutes to go down the other side.

  "From there they went straight along the coast to Kiyilieugamute, wherethey had reckoned on gettin' dogs to replace the young dogs on the'scratch teams' Alexis had made up. All the dogs had gone on a trip forfish an' the natives said it would be two days before they arrived. SoJarvis went ahead with the two good teams, leavin' Bertholf to follow assoon as the native dogs arrived. Four days of hard traveling, stoppin'at Akoolukpugamute, Chukwoktulieugamute, Kogerchtehmute, andChukwoktulik brought 'em to the Yukon at the old Russian trading post ofAndreavski.

  "On the Yukon, I guess they made good time. You know, in the fall, whenthere are sou'westerly gales in the Bering Sea, the water rises in thelower Yukon, an' as it freezes quickly, there may be a trail of smoothglare ice for miles. Then there's prime traveling. But, often as not,the water flows back again before the ice is thick enough to travel on.It makes a thin shell, an' dogs, sleds an' everybody goes through an'brings up on the solid ice below.

  "As a matter of fact, it put Jarvis' teams down an' out; most of hisdogs were bleeding at every step from ice-cuts in the cushions of theirfeet. He had trouble with the natives, too. Two of them got violentcolds, an' they were no use for traveling."

  "Seems queer to think of Eskimos catching cold," said Eric; "now if ithad been Lieutenant Jarvis, I wouldn't have been surprised."

  "There's nothing as tough as a white man," said the whaler. "If you lookup stories of explorers you'll always find it's the natives that getused up first."

  "Why, do you suppose?"

  "A white man is more used to putting out energy. After all, natives arelazy, an' a white man on an exploring expedition or a rescue is pushingnatives faster than they have ever been used to going."

  "He's taking the same trouble himself!" objected the boy.

  "Sure, he is. But then, in one way or another, he's pushing all thetime. Jarvis told me that the next two or three days were bad. Off PointRomanoff the ice-crush was piled high an' they had to lift the sledsover the hummocks for two days on end. A snowstorm came up in the middleof it, an' I guess it was touch and go until they made Pikmiktallik,nine
miles further on. Next day, late in the afternoon, they drove intoSt. Michael's, havin' covered three hundred and seventy-five miles intwenty-one days, with only one day's rest.

  "The story of how Jarvis got teams at St. Michael's and Unalaklik is ayarn all by itself. Anyway, he got 'em, and on January fifth leftUnalaklik, by a mountainous trail along the shore. A wild bit of roaddelayed 'em before they reached Norton's Bay. On the further shore, Iguess they had real trouble. Jarvis told me--and the phrase has stuck inmy mind ever since--that the ice looked like a cubist picture. I've seenstuff like that, but I never had to travel over it."

  "It sounds awful," said Eric.

  "It's worse than that," was the reply. "I don't want any of that sort oftravel in my dish, thanks. Well, to go on. It was right there thatJarvis' an' Bertholf's trail divided. Orders had been left at Unalaklikfor Bertholf to go on an' meet Jarvis at Cape Blossom, on the north sideof Kotzebue Sound, with a thousand pounds of provisions."

  "How could he catch up with Jarvis with a load like that," queried theboy, "when the first part of the expedition was traveling light?"

  "Jarvis had to make a nine-hundred-mile roundabout, clear the way roundthe Seward Peninsula," explained the whaler.

  "What for?"

  "To get the reindeer."

  "That's right," said Eric. "I forgot about the reindeer."

  "They're the whole story," the other reminded him. "They couldn't havegot food up to us with dogs, nohow. It would have taken an army ofdogs."

  "I don't see why?"

  "You've got to feed dogs," was the answer. "Two hundred an' fifty poundsis a good weight for a dog team an' half of that is dog-feed. The foodfor the humans in the party is nigh another fifty pound. So, you see, adog team on a long journey will only get in with about a hundred pounds.At the rate of a pound a day a man for four months, it would take allof five hundred dog teams of ten dogs each to get the stuff up there!An' what would you do with the five thousand dogs when you got 'em upthere?

  REINDEER MESSENGERS OF RESCUE.

  Courtesy of U.S. Coast Guard.]

  REINDEER THAT SAVED THREE HUNDRED LIVES.

  Part of Charlie Artisarlook's herd, driven a thousand miles throughblizzards by three Coast Guard heroes.

  Courtesy of U.S. Coast Guard.]

  "No, winter travel in Alaska's got to be by reindeer. You mayn't knowit, but it's the U. S. Government that has made the Eskimos happy.There's one man, Sheldon Jackson, of the Bureau of Education, who'sbrought more peace and happiness to a larger number of people than 'mostany man I know."

  "How? By introducing reindeer?"

  "Just that," the whaler answered. "The Eskimo would have been wiped offthe face of the earth but for that one man's work. He started thereindeer idea, he brought in a few himself, he got the Governmentinterested an' now reindeer are the backbone of northern Alaska. Oursteam whalers had driven the whales an' the walrus an' the seal so farnorth that the Eskimo couldn't reach them. They were slowly starvin' todeath by hundreds when Uncle Sam stepped in. And your captaincommandant, that's Bertholf, who I'm telling you about now, he did a lotfor Alaska when he brought in the bigger breed, the Tunguse reindeer,which are comin' to be the real beasts o' burden here in the north. Itwas knowin' what could be done with reindeer that sent Jarvis round toPoint Rodney and Cape Prince of Wales to get the herds together an'start 'em north."

  "I thought," said Eric, wrinkling up his forehead, "there was a herdnearer than that. How about the Teller Station at Port Clarence? Isn'tthat a reindeer layout?"

  "It is," said the old whaler, "but distress among the miners in theUpper Yukon had been reported earlier, an' that herd had been startedoff for there. Jarvis figured on rounding up Artisarlook's herd at PointRodney, and the Government herd under C. M. Lopp at Cape Prince ofWales, an' arrangin' to drive 'em to Point Barrow. Then, by pickin' upBertholf, who was to cut straight across the Seward Peninsula with thedog-teams and the provisions, he would be sure of having enough suppliesto push north.

  "Then Jarvis struck snow-drifts! The guides traveled with snowshoes an'did their best to make a trail, Jarvis doing a big share o' the work.The runners of the sleds went clear down an' the dogs sank nearly out ofsight in their struggles to move 'em. The men had to go backwards andforwards a dozen times in front of the sled, stamping it down hard.Then the dogs would drag it ten feet or so an' they'd have to pound thesnow again. There's something that's exhaustin'. Even the dogs playedout an' simply lay down in the snow, refusin' to go any farther."

  "Without any shelter?"

  "Huskies don't need any shelter. They're tough brutes so far as weatheris concerned. Durin' the coldest winter weather in the worst blizzardsthey'll curl up anywhere on the snow an' sleep, an' when the snow hasdrifted over 'em, get up, shake themselves, an' lie down in the sameplace again for another sleep."

  "They scrap a lot, too, don't they?"

  "At feedin' time. When bein' fed they are like wild animals an' snarlan' bite each other, keepin' up one continual fight until everything iseaten. It's more than one man's job with a club to keep 'em quiet enoughfor all the dogs to get their share. But when all the grub is done with,they'll get moderately quiet again.

  "At Golovin Bay, Jarvis found the Teller reindeer herd under Dr.Kettleson. He was on his way to St. Michael for the Upper Yukon, same asI told you, an' had started from Port Clarence three weeks before buthad been stopped by the deep snow. So Jarvis sent back the dog teams toBertholf, who was waiting for them at Unalaklik, and started out withreindeer teams."

  "How do reindeer travel?" queried the boy.

  "All right, in winter, but they're irregular," the other replied. "Everyone has got to be ready in the morning for the start, for the instantthe head team moves, all the deer are off with a jump, full gallop. Forhalf an hour or so they go like an express train, then they sober downto a more steady rate of speed, an' finally, when they are tired,they'll drop into a walk. Jarvis' deer played him a nasty trick on thistrip."

  "What was that?" asked the boy.

  "It was on the way to Point Rodney. It was blowing a living gale an' thesnow was blinding. In the dark Jarvis' deer wandered from the trail, gotentangled in a lot of driftwood on the beach, which was half coveredover with snow, took fright, an' finally wound up by running the sledfull speed agin a stump, breakin' the harness, draggin' the line out ofJarvis' hand an' disappearin' in the darkness an' the flying snow.Luckily Jarvis knew enough not to try and follow him. He stayed rightthere."

  "All night?" queried the boy.

  "Luckily, he didn't have to," the other answered. "Two hours later, asearch party found him. They dug a hole in the snow an' camped rightthere.

  "The next day they only made five miles. The storm was so bad that theman breakin' trail couldn't stand up an' had to crawl on his hands andknees. Even the reindeer wouldn't travel in a straight line, wantin' toturn their tails to the blast. This would have taken the party straightout to sea over the ice. After three days' delay, Jarvis insisted ontravel, an' he nearly had a mutiny on his hands. But he put it through.He's one of the kind of men that always keeps on going!

  "Then came the time for diplomacy. Jarvis had to persuade 'Charlie'Artisarlook, just on his say-so, to give up his whole herd, his entirewealth, promisin' that the same number of deer should be returned. As asmall village had grown up around this herd of Artisarlook's--which madehim quite the most prominent member of his race for miles around--an' asthey depended entirely for their food and clothing on the reindeer herd,it was like askin' a city to empty its houses of everything for the sakeof men they'd never even seen. I think it says a lot for the Eskimosthat they agreed."

  "It's bully!"

  "That's me, too. It's something to give up every penny you own merely ona promise that it will be returned, to leave your wife, family an'neighbors starving, an' go eight hundred miles from home in an Arcticwinter over a terrible road to help a party of white men in distress.

  "When Artisarlook agreed, Jarvis and he went on ahead, leaving
SurgeonCall to follow with the herd to Cape Prince of Wales. This, Jarvis toldme, was one of the worst bits of road on the entire trip. Here's whatJarvis said himself about it:

  "'As I remember it, the thermometer was over thirty below zero and therewas a tidy blizzard blowing when we started for Cape Prince of Wales.The going was rough beyond words. In the afternoon, suddenly Artisarlookwanted to camp, but I thought he was trying to work on my fears, so Imade him go on. But the boy was right, for shortly after it got dark westruck the bluffs near Cape York and our road was over the ice crushesthat lined the shore.

  "'I have never seen such a road. Artisarlook went ahead to try and pickout the way, if indeed it could be called a way, which was nothing butblocks of ice heaped in confusion and disorder. I stayed behind tomanage the heavy sled which was continually capsizing in the rough ice.By eight o'clock I was done out and quite willing to camp. But this timeArtisarlook would not stop. It was too cold to camp on the ice withoutshelter or wood--the ice we were on was in danger of breaking away fromthe bluffs at any minute, and then it might be the end of us. We mustget on beyond the line of bluffs before stopping.

  "'To make matters worse I stepped through a crack in the ice into thewater, and, almost instantaneously, my leg to the knee was a mass ofice. I was now compelled to go on to some place where the foot-gearcould be dried. As though in a dream, suffering the most horribletortures of fatigue, we pushed on dispiritedly until midnight, when wecame to a small hut about ten by twelve, in which fifteen people werealready sleeping. It was the most horrible place I have ever been in,but, at the same time, I was never so happy to be under a roof before.Though I had eaten nothing all day, I was too tired to do more than tocrawl into my sleeping-bag and sleep.

  "'The blizzard raged as fiercely outside as on the day before, but Icould not stay in that pestilential and filthy hut. EvenArtisarlook--and an Eskimo is not over-particular--found difficulty ineating his breakfast. For my part--I could not breathe. The air washorrible and it was refreshing to get outside and to be going throughthe storm and over the rough ice. Fortunately there was another villageabout ten miles further on and we stopped there and had a good meal tofortify ourselves against the battle around the mountains of the CapeYork.

  "'At last I had struck the worst road in the world. All the tremendouspressure of the Polar Seas forcing the ice to the southward was checkedby the land masses of Siberia and Alaska. The ice, twisted and broken,crushed and mangled, piled in a welter of frozen confusion along theshore. Darkness set in before we came to the worst of it, and a faintmoon gave little light for such a road. For fifteen miles there was notten feet of level ground. Though the temperature was thirty below zero,Artisarlook and I were wet to the skin with perspiration from theviolence of the work. We would have to get under the heavy sled and liftit to the top of an ice hummock sometimes as high as our shoulders oreven higher and then ease it down on the other side. Three times out offour it would capsize.

  "'It was a continuous jumble of dogs, sleds, men and ice--particularlyice--and it would be hard to tell which suffered most, men or dogs. Oncein helping the sled over a bad place, I was thrown nearly nine feet downa slide, landing on the back of my head with the sled on me. Our sledswere racked and broken, our dogs played out and we ourselves scarce ableto move when we finally reached Mr. Lopp's house at the Cape.'"

  "Glorious!" cried Eric, his eyes shining; "they won through!"

  "Yes, they got through all right," the whaler answered. "They still hada terrible journey ahead of them, but success was sure. Two or threedays later Dr. Call reported with Artisarlook's herd. Lopp, of course,was an expert in handling deer an', besides, knew the country well. Withsleds and over four hundred reindeer, equipped in every way except forprovisions, Jarvis started for the north. He met Bertholf at theappointed meeting-place, Bertholf having done miracles in crossing thedivide with the provisions.

  "Meantime Lopp took a chance with the deer that no one less experiencedin local conditions dared ha' done. In the teeth of a blizzard he forcedthe deer herd over the ice of Kotzebue Sound, miles away from land.Though he himself was badly frostbitten, an' though every one of theherders arrived on the further shore with severe frost-bites, thecrossing was achieved, savin' several weeks o' time.

  "So, with the deer comin' over the mountains, where they could findmoss, an' with the Coast Guard men coming up the coast in the dog teamsBertholf had brought, rescue came up to us on Point Barrow.

  "I've seen some strange sights in my time an' I've lived all my lifewith men who sported with death daily. But I've never seen a strangersight than strong men creepin' out of the snow-banked hovels wherethey'd been for four long months, half-starved and three-quarters sick,to actually feel Jarvis to make sure that he was real.

  "Many and many a man reckoned it was delirium to think that help hadcome. It seemed beyond belief. An' when Jarvis told 'em that fourhundred reindeer were only a day's journey away, an' that there wasfresh meat enough for all--old seadogs that hadn't had any sort offeeling for years, just broke down and cried like children.

  "Then, while the excitement was at its height, and everybody was askingquestions at the same time, a grizzled old whaler, who had been whalin'for half a century an' more, I guess, half-blind with scurvy, creptforward and laid his hand on Jarvis' shoulder.

  "'Boys,' he said in a quavering voice, 'this ain't just one man, it'sthe whole United States.'"