many days had passed since the boys’ first walrus hunt. they had learned much by experience and had killed many of the enormous ugly creatures without mishap. they had retained the skull of that first huge bull as a trophy, and no walrus taken since had approached it in the length and beauty of the perfectly matched and pointed tusks. tom, to his unspeakable delight, had been made boat steerer and had been assigned to the same craft in which they had battled with the walrus and jim, not to be outdone, had bent every energy to acquiring skill in using the harpoon and lance.
in this cap’n pem had played an important part, and finding the regular irons far too heavy for the boy, he had had the blacksmith fashion some special lighter weapons for jim’s private use. jim was as proud as a peacock of these and kept them, sharpened to a razor edge and carefully sheathed and greased, in the bow of the boat. and when, one day, two white[138] whales were sighted and tom’s boat drew into one of the creatures, and jim had his first chance to test his skill, he was trembling with excitement.
standing in the bow, bracing himself in the knee cleat, the boy raised his iron, and as the huge beluga broke water close by, he heaved the iron with all his strength. a roar of approval came booming across the waves from cap’n pem as the weapon struck fair and buried itself in the white whale’s back. all by themselves the boys and their crew played the stricken creature and by tom’s orders the men worked as the line was hauled or slackened. when at last the white whale lay tired upon the sea, the boat drew close, and jim killed the beluga with a single stroke of his lance. then indeed, the two boys felt that they were full-fledged whalemen and they longed for the time when they could go on a real whale, a bowhead, and fight the thrilling, exciting, dangerous battle with a monster of the deep and bring him “fin up” unaided.
but no bowheads were seen, and the boys were forced to content themselves with lesser game. they had learned to handle the kayaks, and under unavik’s tutelage they had become quite expert with the ticklish skin-covered craft. often they had paddled ashore and, armed with rifle and shotgun, had gone[139] hunting in the rocky hills or over the tundra, but they had seen neither bear, musk ox, reindeer, or other large game. but they invariably returned with full bags, for ducks, plover, geese and swan, as well as the big arctic hares, were everywhere, and those on the narwhal never suffered for lack of fresh meat. once too, jim had spied a grayish shape skulking along a hollow several hundred yards away and taking careful aim had brought it down at his first shot.
“gee, i guess it’s some eskimo’s dog!” he exclaimed when the two boys reached the creature and saw a gaunt, pale, grayish yellow, doglike animal lying among the rocks and sparse grass.
“well it’s got a good hide anyway,” said tom. “we’ll skin it and take it along. it’ll make a nice rug when we get home.”
but when, on reaching the schooner, they exhibited the skin, and mr. kemp told them they had killed a huge wolf, the boys fairly gasped with astonishment and then danced and yelled with delight.
another time, tom had killed a beautiful blue fox as the creature raced away from a half-devoured young canada goose, and in a pen on the forward deck, they had a miniature menagerie of young ducks, geese, swans, gulls, and other birds.
[140]
it was now late summer and the young birds of the year were able to take care of themselves, but when the boys had first gone ashore on their hunts, ducks, geese, and other wild fowl were nesting by thousands in every hollow and swale.
it was on their first trip that jim had an amusing experience, and for months afterwards tom and the ship’s officers never ceased teasing him about it. the two boys were strolling across a little vale, a spot carpeted with deep reindeer moss and stunted bushes, when, from almost under jim’s feet, a duck fluttered away apparently unable to take wing. leaping forward to grasp it jim’s foot tripped and he plunged headlong into the bushes. there was a crunching crash beneath him and, as he regained his feet, tom fairly doubled up with uncontrollable laughter. from chest to waist jim was drenched with a sticky yellow mass dotted with broken and crushed bluish egg shells. he had fallen squarely upon the duck’s nest!
“oh you are a sight!” choked tom. “gosh, you certainly did find that nest, jim!”
jim looked ruefully at the dripping mess and without a smile exclaimed: “gee, i like eggs, but i don’t like ’em scrambled that way!”
the story was too good to keep, and whenever eggs[141] were served thereafter some one would invariably ask jim if he’d have his scrambled.
at last the signs of approaching autumn warned captain edwards that they must leave the shores of baffin island and speed southward to hudson straits and winter quarters in hudson bay. long strings of swans and great v-shaped flocks of geese passed daily across the sky, headed south. the vast rafts of ducks became uneasy. the old squaws whistled querulously, the eiders swam restlessly about, buffle heads and teal winged swiftly back and forth, and the blackheads darkened the sky with their veering, ever-turning flocks. the plover lost their black waistcoats and took on silvery white ones; the snow bunting became gray and white; the ptarmigan were dotted with white feathers among their soft brown plumage and the arctic hares grew paler and paler as they gradually assumed their winter coats to match the spotless snow. the days grew shorter, the sun disappeared below the horizon, and the aurora glowed and flashed and scintillated in tongues and bands of lambent hues across the zenith. the wind was chill with the feel of frost and ice as it swept across the land which now showed hardly a tint of green or a speck of the scarlet, blue and yellow that had formerly decked the hillsides.
[142]
so, with many casks of oils, great piles of walrus hides, bundles of sealskins, sacks stuffed full of eider feathers, and many hundred pounds of walrus ivory in her hold, the narwhal picked and felt her way out through the leads among the ice pack and into the broad waters of baffin bay. to the strong and biting wind her sails were spread, and across the short sharp waves with their spiteful hissing caps of foam, the schooner plunged towards disko bay. here the eskimos were landed laden with axes, powder and lead, cloth, brass, and gee-gaws as their wages. then with yards braced sharp up and sheets close hauled, the narwhal buried her blunt nose deep in the tumbling foam, and with lee rail awash sped southward for the entrance to hudson straits.
twice bowheads were sighted and boats lowered; but to the boys’ chagrin and disappointment, captain edwards absolutely refused to let them go in on the giant creatures without an experienced man in charge, for the weather was squally, swirling flakes of snow fell now and then, the sea was rough and time was precious.
at last, the entrance to the straits was reached. passing resolution island close to windward and with a fair wind, the narwhal sped through. slipping swiftly past coats island and through the narrow[143] fisher strait with big southampton island on the north, she headed for rowe’s welcome, where captain edwards planned to pass the long and dreary arctic winter.
“gosh!” exclaimed tom as the boys gazed across the vast expanse of the bay. “this is like the ocean. i thought hudson bay was just like a big lake.”
captain edwards chuckled. “mighty big lake!” he laughed. “about six hundred miles wide and a thousand miles long—big enough to drop all new england into it and just make a little island about the size of southampton yonder. and did you know we could go on sailing and come out over north’ard of alaska—that is, if the ice’d let us?”
“no, i never did,” admitted tom. “i wish geographies taught us all these things. we learn that lake superior is awfully big but they never say much about these out-of-the-way places.”
“well, superior’s a pretty sizable pond,” declared the skipper. “but it’s just a puddle ’longside this bay. why, from james bay to the north’ard point of melville peninsula’s as far as acrost the atlantic at the mouth of the st. lawrence; and from nottingham island at the end of the straits to the seal river, t’other side of the bay, it’s as far as from new york to chicago.”
[144]
“whew, i guess i’ll have to remember that and tell the boys at home,” said jim. “are there whales in here?”
“whales!” exclaimed the skipper. “one of the best grounds i know. if this weather holds out we’ll get a heap of ile afore ice begins to make.”
cap’n pem who stood near shook his head dolefully. “too consarned good fer to las’,” he declared. “li’ble to come down a rip-snortin’ mos’ anny minnet. storm breeder’s what i calls it. yes, sir. feels like summer now, but i’ll bet ye we ketch it afore we git to the welcome.”
it was, as the old whaleman said, “too good to last”—a soft, warm day with a blue sky, a calm sea barely ruffled by the light southerly wind, and altogether like an indian summer day in new england. but to the experienced eye of the old whaleman there were many signs that the weather would not last and that something was wrong. the ducks, that had been winging southward, huddled together, raised their heads uneasily and gabbled ceaselessly. the v-shaped flocks of geese were mere specks in the sky, and their hoarse honks came faintly through the air. the gulls uttered raucous cries and wheeled and screamed. little knots of auks and guillemots kept rising from the waves, heading on rapidly moving[145] wings for the craggy shores. the sun had a pale, hazy appearance while about it was a huge ring of light, like the ghost of a rainbow.
lighter and lighter became the wind. it fell to a flat calm, the water was smooth as oil and the narwhal drifted idly. then the boys noticed that the vast bulk of southampton island seemed to be fading away, the farther shores of the bay were becoming faint and blue. almost before they realized what it meant, the air grew suddenly chill, a cold wind whipped against their faces and, like a gray blanket, the fog descended swiftly, unheralded, and wrapped schooner and bay in its dense gray folds.
“knowed sutthin’ wuz a-comin’ out o’ this,” declared cap’n pem. “bust it all, why couldn’t she ’a’ held off ’til we got inter the welcome?”
“what on earth is this ‘welcome’ you’re always speaking of?” asked tom.
“shucks, ’course ye don’t know,” replied the old whaleman. “why, a welcome’s a sort o’ harbor-bay like, where a ship kin put in an’ be snug an’ safe from ice jams an’ win’s.”
“well, it’s a good name for such places,” laughed tom. “i suppose the first people who found them called them that because they were so welcome.”
“yep, i reckon so,” assented pem. “but this here[146] blasted fog ain’t welcome, an’ like as not it’ll come on cold and blow harder’n blazes fer a week arter it lifts. i knowed that there cat’d play the everlastin’ fumdiddles with us.”
the fog was now so dense that only a few feet of the deck and bulwarks were visible about the spot where one stood. the water although so near was completely hidden and looking down into the greenish gray vapor, the ship seemed floating in air. from every side came the whimpering cries of gulls, the querulous chatter of ducks, the honk of geese, and the shrill notes of other birds. presently unavik loomed silently close to the boys and leaning upon the rail peered into the fog.
“h’lo!” he greeted the two. “plenty fog, me say. me t’ink ukla bus’ dis day.”
“what are you talking about?” queried jim. “what’s ‘ukla,’ and what do you mean by its busting?’”
the eskimo grinned. “gimme t’bac, me say you,” he replied.
so accustomed had the boys become to unavik’s inevitable requests for tobacco, that they always carried a plug or two in their pockets, and so, at the eskimo’s request, jim handed him the coveted weed.
“reckon he’s goin’ to spin a eskimo yarn,” remarked[147] mr. kemp, who stepped like a phantom from the surrounding mist. “these boys is full of stories—have one to account for blamed near everything. some of ’em mighty good, too.”
unavik grinned, tore a huge mouthful of tobacco from the plug with his strong white teeth and, having masticated it for a moment, began to speak. it was not difficult for the boys to understand him, for they had become familiar with his bizarre english. they listened intently to his tale which, without unavik’s dialect, was as follows:
“many, many winters ago,” commenced the eskimo, “there was one great white bear named ukla. he and his wife lived many days’ travel towards the west in a great skin house on a rocky plain, and all about the house were the skulls of men and women, for ukla and his wife ate people’s flesh, and every night he traveled across the land to the eskimo villages. then he would kill any one he found outside the huts, and if he could not do this, he would steal the bodies of the dead and fastening a thong about their feet, would drag them to his home.
“sometimes he was seen by the eskimos, but oftener the people saw only his giant footmarks in the snow, or found the graves opened and the dead gone. for many years old ukla did this, and although the[148] eskimos held medicine feasts and asked the great spirit to help them, no help came.
“many times also the people lay in wait and tried to kill ukla, the giant bear, with their spears and arrows, but ukla was a great anticoot (magician) and the weapons fell from his shaggy skin bent or broken. then one day a stranger came to the eskimos—a tall fair man, and said:
“‘take heart, for i will destroy ukla.’
“then the eskimos danced and beat their drums and were happy, and the stranger said to them: ‘to-morrow i will pretend to be dead, and you must wrap me in skins and bury me among the stones; and when ukla comes let him take me away in peace.’
“then the people were sad, but the stranger said: ‘weep not, for i will return and never again will ukla rob the graves or kill the people.’
“so the eskimos did as the stranger told them, and wrapping him in skins placed him among the stones and went to their homes, crying loudly as if he had died. in the night came the great bear who had heard the eskimos’ wails across the hills, and seeing the body of the stranger, he fastened a thong about the man’s ankles and started for his home. but the man spread out his arms and grasped at stones and bushes, and although ukla pulled and tugged he[149] could not travel fast, and every few miles he had to stop and rest. then as he looked at the man’s body lying quiet on the ground he would shake his head in wonder.
“‘ah,’ he would mutter to himself, ‘who would think such a small man would weigh so much; but he must be very fat and fine indeed! what a fine supper he will make!’ then, thinking of the fine feast he would have, ukla would start on again. at last, very tired, he reached his hut, and dragging the man inside, the bear pushed him into a corner, and too tired to eat he crawled into his sleeping bag, telling his wife they would feast in the morning.
“after a time the stranger opened his eyes to look about, but ukla’s wife, who was trimming the lamp, saw him and cried out to her husband: ‘this man is not dead—he is looking about!’
“but ukla was very weary and said sleepily: ‘oh, man dead, man frozen stiff.’
“then the man kept very still, and when the bear’s wife turned away, he seized ukla’s knife, and leaping up, killed her. as she fell dead ukla awoke, but the man, throwing down the knife, dashed out of the door and across the plain with the big bear at his heels, panting and growling and snapping his teeth.
“at last, no matter how fast he ran, the man found[150] ukla was getting nearer and nearer and would soon overtake him. but the man was a great anticoot, and as he ran he made a great hill rise between himself and ukla. so as the bear climbed slowly up one side, the man raced swiftly down the other. but when ukla reached the top he curled up in a ball and rolled so quickly down the hill that he almost caught the man.
“then the stranger made a big river flow between himself and the bear, and weary with running he seated himself on a stone to rest. when ukla came to the river he roared and growled in anger and in a great voice called out: ‘how, o man did you cross the river?’
“and the man laughed and answered, ‘i drank my way across.’
“when ukla heard this, he plunged into the water and drank and drank until at last he made a dry path across the river, and crawled slowly up the other bank towards the man. but his long hair was wet and heavy and his body was swollen with the water he had drunk, so that the man had no fear of him and taunted him. then ukla grew very angry and with growls like icebergs clashing in a storm he roared: ‘ugh! even though i cannot overtake you, yet you shall not escape me!’ and giving himself a[151] mighty shake he burst, and the water which he had swallowed flew in all directions and made a thick fog over the land.
“now the man was greatly troubled, for the hills and plains could not be seen and he was lost. but he skinned ukla, and taking the shaggy hide in his hands, he waved it many times about his head. this made a great wind which drove away the fog and the man walked safely to the eskimo village. then there was great rejoicing and the men did not work or hunt for three days, and the women did not comb their hair for three days and three nights, but all danced and beat drums and feasted.
“for many years the stranger dwelt among the people and taught them many things, and so that the people would always remember him, he told them that ukla’s spirit would roam the plains, and would burst from time to time, and that then, as the fog came, they must give offerings and hold medicine dances, and that then he would know they had not forgotten and would wave ukla’s skin and drive away the fog.”
“that is a good yarn!” cried tom as unavik ended. “and say, hurrah, the fog’s lifting!”
unavik grinned. “man, he hear plenty drum. you no hear? me say he please an’ wave um skin.”
[152]
“gee, i do hear drums!” declared tom. “from over to the west.”
“sure mike!” exclaimed unavik. “me say all same. fog go.”
tom laughed. “do you believe that yarn, unavik?” he asked.
the eskimo stared at tom with a puzzled expression. “sure,” he declared, “me see hill, me see river, me see fog. all time fog come eskimo make-um plenty dance, plenty drum, fog go, all same now.”
as if further argument was useless in the face of such evidence, unavik waddled off towards the bows.
presently the water was rippling against the vessel’s sides. the fog had thinned until the entire schooner was visible from where the boys stood. in wisps and shreds the vapor was scudding by, while out of the west came a strong, cold wind.
as the last of the fog swept by, there was a hoarse frightened bellow from forward. quick sharp orders were roared out and the boys, racing to the lee side of the schooner, fairly gasped. almost under the bows was a jagged reef of sharp black rocks! for a brief instant the boys stood petrified. the schooner seemed doomed. before her sails could be trimmed, before she would have steerageway upon her she would be on the rocks. each second she was drifting,[153] slipping nearer to the reef. the boys listened with bated breath, expecting to hear the rending crash, the awful jar that would mean the narwhal’s end.
all about orders were flying thick and fast. cap’n pem was roaring from the break of the poop. captain edwards had leaped to the wheel and was shouting commands. mr. kemp in the main shrouds was cursing the men for their slowness. back and forth to braces, sheets and halyards the men were rushing and hauling in a vain effort to save the ship. then, from under the boys’ feet came rapid pistol-like reports; above the cries of the men, drowning the creak and squeal of block and sheave, barked the exhaust of the motor; the narwhal forged ahead, she swung slowly to her rudder and, with not five feet to spare, slid by the threatening reefs to safety.
with blank faces boys and men gazed at one another. who had saved the ship? it was not mike, he was stumping hurriedly aft as puzzled as any one.
“b’ saint pathrick!” he cried. “’tis a sphirit oi’m thinkin’!”
with the boys by his side he hurried through the cabin towards the tiny engine room where the motor was still throbbing steadily.
“glory be!” he exclaimed, as he caught sight of[154] the figure bending over the motor. “glory be, ’tis thot dummy av a blacksmith!”
“gosh, it is!” cried tom. “the deaf-and-dumb man!”
“b’jabbers thin ’tis no dummy in his brains he do be, at thot!” roared mike. “b’ the powers, ’tis lucky we do be, thot oi tould him to be afther doin’ a bit o’ worruk on the injine.”
the deaf mute straightened up and stared blankly at the three. then, moving his fingers in an attempt to explain matters, he shut off the motor, picked up his kit of tools and walked forward.
“gee, i’d like to know how it happened,” declared tom. “he couldn’t have heard the orders or excitement. i’m going to ask swanson.”
a broad grin overspread the big swede’s features as, in response to tom’s questions, he interrogated the deaf mute and watched the fellow’s fingers communicating his reply.
“he say he bane fix das machine an’ he bane want to try him out. ay tank, by yiminy, it bane lucky he try him yust den.”
