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| author | nfenwick <nfenwick@pglaf.org> | 2025-03-03 04:43:03 -0800 |
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| committer | nfenwick <nfenwick@pglaf.org> | 2025-03-03 04:43:03 -0800 |
| commit | 8156443a2b60c240e2c6d7b791a99679ab2085f7 (patch) | |
| tree | b6889a2db1aef9c9da1a5c292e7aeef21a410044 /35518-h/35518-h.htm | |
| parent | 04d452f7132739123077e7907caaab75acf8568a (diff) | |
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padding-top: 1px } + + .coverpage, .titlepage, + .contents, .foreword, .preface, .introduction, .dedication, .prologue, + .epilogue, .appendix, .glossary, .bibliography, .index, .colophon, + .footnotes, + .cleardoublepage { page-break-before: right; padding-top: 1px } + + .vfill { margin-top: 20% } + h2.title { margin-top: 20% } +} +</style> +<style type="text/css"> +.pageno { position: absolute; right: 95%; font: medium sans-serif; } +.pageno:after { color: gray; content: '[' attr(title) ']' } +.toc-pageref { float: right } +pre { font-family: monospace; font-size: 0.9em; white-space: pre-wrap } +</style> +</head> +<body> +<div>*** START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK 35518 ***</div> +<div class="document" id="the-ice-pilot"> +<h1 class="document-title level-1 pfirst title">THE ICE PILOT</h1> +</div> +<div class="vspace" style="height: 4em"> +</div> +<div class="container" id="pg-produced-by"> +<p class="noindent pfirst">Produced by Darleen Dove, Mary Meehan, and the Online Distributed Proofreading Team at <a class="reference external" href="http://www.pgdp.net">http://www.pgdp.net</a>.</p> +<div class="vspace" style="height: 1em"> +</div> +<p class="noindent pnext">This file was produced from images generously made available by The Internet Archive/American Libraries.</p> +</div> +</div> +<div class="align-center auto-scaled figure" style="margin-left: 27%; width: 45%" id="figure-1"> +<img style="display: block; width: 100%" alt="images/cover.jpg" src="images/cover.jpg" width="100%"/> +</div> +<div class="center line-block noindent x-large"> +<div class="line"> +THE ICE PILOT</div> +<div class="line"> +BY HENRY LEVERAGE</div> +</div> +<div class="center line-block noindent small"> +<div class="line"> +FRONTISPIECE BY</div> +<div class="line"> +RUDOLPH TANDLER</div> +<div class="line"> + </div> +<div class="line"> +GARDEN CITY, N. Y., AND TORONTO</div> +<div class="line"> +DOUBLEDAY, PAGE & COMPANY</div> +<div class="line"> +1921</div> +<div class="line"> + </div> +<div class="line"> +COPYRIGHT, 1921, BY</div> +<div class="line"> +DOUBLEDAY, PAGE & COMPANY</div> +<div class="line"> + </div> +<div class="line"> +ALL RIGHTS RESERVED, INCLUDING THAT OF TRANSLATION</div> +<div class="line"> +INTO FOREIGN LANGUAGES, INCLUDING THE SCANDINAVIAN</div> +<div class="line"> + </div> +<div class="line"> +COPYRIGHT, 1919, BY STREET AND SMITH CORPORATION</div> +<div class="line"> + </div> +<div class="line"> +DEDICATED TO</div> +<div class="line"> +THE CAPTAIN OF THE <em class="italics">KARLUK</em></div> +<div class="line"> +SEASON 1897-8</div> +</div> +<div class="align-center auto-scaled figure" style="margin-left: 27%; width: 45%" id="figure-2"> +<img style="display: block; width: 100%" alt="The floes through which Stirling guided the ship became larger and higher" src="images/front.jpg" width="100%"/> +<div class="caption italics"> +The floes through which Stirling guided the ship became larger and higher</div> +</div> +<div class="contents level-2 section" id="id1"> +<h2 class="level-2 pfirst section-title title">CONTENTS</h2> +<ul class="simple toc-list"> +<li class="level-2 toc-entry"><a class="reference internal pginternal" href="#chapter-ithe-coast-of-barbary" id="id2">CHAPTER I—THE COAST OF BARBARY</a></li> +<li class="level-2 toc-entry"><a class="reference internal pginternal" href="#chapter-iion-a-man-s-sea" id="id3">CHAPTER II—ON A MAN'S SEA</a></li> +<li class="level-2 toc-entry"><a class="reference internal pginternal" href="#chapter-iiiover-the-quarter-deck" id="id4">CHAPTER III—OVER THE QUARTER-DECK</a></li> +<li class="level-2 toc-entry"><a class="reference internal pginternal" href="#chapter-ivon-the-sparkling-sea" id="id5">CHAPTER IV—ON THE SPARKLING SEA</a></li> +<li class="level-2 toc-entry"><a class="reference internal pginternal" href="#chapter-vinto-a-purple-twilight" id="id6">CHAPTER V—INTO A PURPLE TWILIGHT</a></li> +<li class="level-2 toc-entry"><a class="reference internal pginternal" href="#chapter-viby-the-great-circle-route" id="id7">CHAPTER VI—BY THE GREAT-CIRCLE ROUTE</a></li> +<li class="level-2 toc-entry"><a class="reference internal pginternal" href="#chapter-viidrifters-and-derelicts" id="id8">CHAPTER VII—DRIFTERS AND DERELICTS</a></li> +<li class="level-2 toc-entry"><a class="reference internal pginternal" href="#chapter-viiion-a-lower-bunk" id="id9">CHAPTER VIII—ON A LOWER BUNK</a></li> +<li class="level-2 toc-entry"><a class="reference internal pginternal" href="#chapter-ixthe-polar-barrier" id="id10">CHAPTER IX—THE POLAR BARRIER</a></li> +<li class="level-2 toc-entry"><a class="reference internal pginternal" href="#chapter-xto-the-last-day" id="id11">CHAPTER X—TO THE LAST DAY</a></li> +<li class="level-2 toc-entry"><a class="reference internal pginternal" href="#chapter-xibeneath-the-surface" id="id12">CHAPTER XI—BENEATH THE SURFACE</a></li> +<li class="level-2 toc-entry"><a class="reference internal pginternal" href="#chapter-xiithe-manner-of-man" id="id13">CHAPTER XII—THE MANNER OF MAN</a></li> +<li class="level-2 toc-entry"><a class="reference internal pginternal" href="#chapter-xiiiinto-the-ice" id="id14">CHAPTER XIII—INTO THE ICE</a></li> +<li class="level-2 toc-entry"><a class="reference internal pginternal" href="#chapter-xiva-whispered-warning" id="id15">CHAPTER XIV—A WHISPERED WARNING</a></li> +<li class="level-2 toc-entry"><a class="reference internal pginternal" href="#chapter-xvout-of-the-porthole" id="id16">CHAPTER XV—OUT OF THE PORTHOLE</a></li> +<li class="level-2 toc-entry"><a class="reference internal pginternal" href="#chapter-xvifrom-his-pocket" id="id17">CHAPTER XVI—FROM HIS POCKET</a></li> +<li class="level-2 toc-entry"><a class="reference internal pginternal" href="#chapter-xviiinto-forbidden-waters" id="id18">CHAPTER XVII—INTO FORBIDDEN WATERS</a></li> +<li class="level-2 toc-entry"><a class="reference internal pginternal" href="#chapter-xviiiwith-the-speed-of-wind" id="id19">CHAPTER XVIII—WITH THE SPEED OF WIND</a></li> +<li class="level-2 toc-entry"><a class="reference internal pginternal" href="#chapter-xixa-toast-from-marr" id="id20">CHAPTER XIX—A TOAST FROM MARR</a></li> +<li class="level-2 toc-entry"><a class="reference internal pginternal" href="#chapter-xxthe-moving-shadows" id="id21">CHAPTER XX—THE MOVING SHADOWS</a></li> +<li class="level-2 toc-entry"><a class="reference internal pginternal" href="#chapter-xxithrough-the-porthole" id="id22">CHAPTER XXI—THROUGH THE PORTHOLE</a></li> +<li class="level-2 toc-entry"><a class="reference internal pginternal" href="#chapter-xxiialone-in-the-cabin" id="id23">CHAPTER XXII—ALONE IN THE CABIN</a></li> +<li class="level-2 toc-entry"><a class="reference internal pginternal" href="#chapter-xxiiiover-the-stern" id="id24">CHAPTER XXIII—OVER THE STERN</a></li> +<li class="level-2 toc-entry"><a class="reference internal pginternal" href="#chapter-xxivbefore-the-wheel" id="id25">CHAPTER XXIV—BEFORE THE WHEEL</a></li> +<li class="level-2 toc-entry"><a class="reference internal pginternal" href="#chapter-xxvin-the-grip-of-the-unknown" id="id26">CHAPTER XXV—IN THE GRIP OF THE UNKNOWN</a></li> +<li class="level-2 toc-entry"><a class="reference internal pginternal" href="#chapter-xxviin-the-sudden-darkness" id="id27">CHAPTER XXVI—IN THE SUDDEN DARKNESS</a></li> +<li class="level-2 toc-entry"><a class="reference internal pginternal" href="#chapter-xxviiin-the-pit" id="id28">CHAPTER XXVII—IN THE PIT</a></li> +<li class="level-2 toc-entry"><a class="reference internal pginternal" href="#chapter-xxviiithe-third-door" id="id29">CHAPTER XXVIII—THE THIRD DOOR</a></li> +<li class="level-2 toc-entry"><a class="reference internal pginternal" href="#chapter-xxixto-see-it-through" id="id30">CHAPTER XXIX—TO SEE IT THROUGH</a></li> +<li class="level-2 toc-entry"><a class="reference internal pginternal" href="#chapter-xxxin-swift-salute" id="id31">CHAPTER XXX—IN SWIFT SALUTE</a></li> +<li class="level-2 toc-entry"><a class="reference internal pginternal" href="#chapter-xxxidanger-and-doubt" id="id32">CHAPTER XXXI—DANGER AND DOUBT</a></li> +<li class="level-2 toc-entry"><a class="reference internal pginternal" href="#chapter-xxxiito-the-last-day" id="id33">CHAPTER XXXII—TO THE LAST DAY</a></li> +<li class="level-2 toc-entry"><a class="reference internal pginternal" href="#chapter-xxxiiia-grim-warning" id="id34">CHAPTER XXXIII—A GRIM WARNING</a></li> +<li class="level-2 toc-entry"><a class="reference internal pginternal" href="#chapter-xxxivthrough-the-driving-snow" id="id35">CHAPTER XXXIV—THROUGH THE DRIVING SNOW</a></li> +<li class="level-2 toc-entry"><a class="reference internal pginternal" href="#chapter-xxxva-matter-of-minutes" id="id36">CHAPTER XXXV—A MATTER OF MINUTES</a></li> +<li class="level-2 toc-entry"><a class="reference internal pginternal" href="#chapter-xxxviacross-the-cabin" id="id37">CHAPTER XXXVI—ACROSS THE CABIN</a></li> +<li class="level-2 toc-entry"><a class="reference internal pginternal" href="#chapter-xxxviithe-calling-beacon" id="id38">CHAPTER XXXVII—THE CALLING BEACON</a></li> +</ul> +</div> +<div class="level-2 section" id="chapter-ithe-coast-of-barbary"> +<h2 class="level-2 pfirst section-title title"><a class="toc-backref pginternal" href="#id2">CHAPTER I—THE COAST OF BARBARY</a></h2> +<p class="pfirst">It was raining in San Francisco.</p> +<p class="pnext">Over that Bagdad of the West a thin drizzling mist swept like some fine +seiner's net; over the Bay a fog hung.</p> +<p class="pnext">A man stood alone on the crest of Telegraph Hill. Below him the city +stretched with its square-checked habitations; its long, blurred lanes +of lights; its trolley cars creeping like glow-worms up and down the +slippery inclines.</p> +<p class="pnext">That evening the man had watched the sun go down in yellow splendour. He +had seen the shadow of night chase the sunlight in a mad frolic beyond +the edge of the world. He had noted—for his eyes were sharp—the +fore-topsail of a windjammer cut a square nick out of the horizon, and +come like a scared white thing through the Golden Gate.</p> +<p class="pnext">Directly below the man a house, which was perched on the declivity, +seemed to burst with drunken mirth and laughter. A woman's voice swung +in tune with a tinkling piano. She sang an old chantey that whalers +know:</p> +<blockquote><div> +<div class="line-block"> +<div class="line"> +"'Rah for the grog—</div> +<div class="line"> +The jolly, jolly grog.</div> +<div class="line"> +'Rah for the grog and tobacco.</div> +<div class="line"> +We've spent all our tin with the ladies, drinking gin,</div> +<div class="line"> +And across the briny ocean we must wan—der——"</div> +</div> +</div></blockquote> +<p class="pfirst">The man shrugged his shoulders, clinked two silver coins together, and +descended the hill to the Blubber Room, from whence the song had come.</p> +<p class="pnext">The piano drummed out a noisy welcome when he opened and closed the +door.</p> +<p class="pnext">He took a seat at a table, removed his cap from his gray-sprinkled head, +leaned back, and looked around the smoky interior of the Blubber Room. +The figures of old salts, crimps, half-pay officers, and one +square-jawed sailor loomed through the fetid air. A woman with carmined +lips and a thin blue neck stood by a youth who played the piano.</p> +<p class="pnext">It was all familiar to Stirling—known from the Clyde to the Golden Horn +as Horace Stirling, the Ice Pilot. He had been in such dives before. He +knew Number Nine, Yokohama, and the Silver Dollar at Manila.</p> +<p class="pnext">Stirling had struck hard luck, chicken farming over Oakland way. His +chickens died as sailors die of scurvy at Herschel Island, and he wanted +to quit the shore.</p> +<p class="pnext">The sea and the Arctic called, and he had little money left. There was +a chance for adventure in the Blubber Room that night; rumour had it +that a ship was outfitting for a passage to East Cape, Siberia, and the +unknown land around the Pole.</p> +<p class="pnext">Stirling possessed a countenance stamped with the seal of misfortune—a +face with which destiny loves to toy, the face of a rover and a +castaway, yet withal, a strong face which would remain strong to the +very end.</p> +<p class="pnext">His eyes were dark brown and wide-set. His nose was long and divided +full; round cheeks blood-veined to a purplish tinge that spoke not only +of wind and weather, of the sea and brine, but also of the lees and +dregs of a wanderer's life.</p> +<p class="pnext">The figure of him, sitting at the table, seemed blocked from sturdy oak.</p> +<p class="pnext">He eyed the patrons of the Blubber Room and concluded that the adventure +he sought for was far away from that noisy, smoke-filled dive. There was +but one occupant who looked capable of a desperate enterprise—the +sailor—and this man sat hunched in a chair as if he had been drinking +heavily of temperance-time alcohol.</p> +<p class="pnext">Stirling studied the sailor's face and found lines in it which were +slightly familiar. It brought to his mind the Revenue Service and a +second lieutenant whom he had met off the Little Diomede Island in +Bering Strait.</p> +<p class="pnext">Turning from his scrutiny of the sailor, Stirling looked at the door of +the Blubber Room through which two men stepped who would have attracted +attention anywhere.</p> +<p class="pnext">These men, glistening from the rain, took seats at a table and called +for a bottle of light wine. One man was a Yankee, by his nasal +undertones and tobacco-stained goatee. The other man was half the weight +of the first, thin, alert, with a well-trimmed Vandyke beard over which +glittered a pair of eyes that resembled gimlets in their pointed +intensity.</p> +<p class="pnext">Upon both of these men lay the badge of the sea—in their gestures, +their pea-jackets, and their peculiar habit of always leaning against +something, which is acquired on decks of ships.</p> +<p class="pnext">Stirling studied these men, watched them drink the wine, and saw that +they had fallen under the hidden observation of the sailor who resembled +a second lieutenant of the Revenue Service.</p> +<p class="pnext">The Ice Pilot sensed adventure. He also ordered a bottle of light wine, +and paid for it with his last dollar. He sipped the liquid slowly, +pretended to be interested in the woman at the piano, and waited for +something to happen.</p> +<p class="pnext">He had not long to wait.</p> +<p class="pnext">The two seamen rose from their table, tossed down coins, glanced +meaningly toward the woman at the piano and the waiter who had served +them wine, and went out from the Blubber Room.</p> +<p class="pnext">Stirling looked at the sailor, who half-lifted himself from his chair, +thought better of the action, dropped back, thrust his elbows on the +table, and buried his face in his palms.</p> +<p class="pnext">The woman's song rose and fell in the heated air, while the lamps +flickered and almost went out. The piano's tinkling notes settled to a +shrill tune that was a signal.</p> +<p class="pnext">There followed swifter than Stirling could make note of the events, an +oath from the waiter, a curse upon somebody, a loud banging of the +piano, and a woman's penetrating scream.</p> +<p class="pnext">A chair, a cuspidor, and part of a table hurtled across the Blubber +Room; bottles struck the walls; the light went out when the lamps fell +in a thousand pieces to the floor.</p> +<p class="pnext">Stirling overturned his table, stumbled through the gloom, tripped over +a body, went down on all fours, and crawled to the door. He raised +himself and attempted to turn the knob, but it would not budge. He heard +behind him the shrieks of the woman and the thud of many blows, then, +after a minute's uproar, a match was lighted, shielded in a red palm, +and its rays directed downward to the sawdust floor.</p> +<p class="pnext">The Ice Pilot felt his heart throb in his staunch body. The woman, who +had stood by the piano, lay face upward with the hilt of a seaman's +knife protruding from her breast; carmine stained her neck and waist.</p> +<p class="pnext">"Watch th' door an' windows!" a seaman cried. "Somebody's gone an' +croaked Thedessa."</p> +<p class="pnext">Accusing eyes glowed in the match's yellow light, and the Ice Pilot felt +that he was the centre of suspicion. A hand was raised and a long finger +pointed toward him.</p> +<p class="pnext">He waited until someone lighted the wick of a smashed lamp, then +stepping from the locked door he went to the woman and knelt by her +side. Rising, he said, "I didn't kill her. I think the piano-player +did."</p> +<p class="pnext">"Maybe she ain't dead," said a voice that Stirling recognized as coming +from the sailor.</p> +<p class="pnext">The waiter took off his apron, closed one eye craftily, and, after a +brutal laugh and a sharp glance around the circle of seaman, exclaimed:</p> +<p class="pnext">"Aw, nobody killed her-she just fell on th' knife!"</p> +<p class="pnext">Stirling sought for the piano-player who had vanished. He square-set his +shoulders, clenched his fists, and cleared his throat.</p> +<p class="pnext">"I'll go for the police," he said.</p> +<p class="pnext">The waiter and a seaman grasped his sturdy arms. "Hol' on," they urged.</p> +<p class="pnext">"Why should I hold on?"</p> +<p class="pnext">The waiter eyed the woman on the floor.</p> +<p class="pnext">"She's dead. Nobody knows who killed her. Let's all help carry th' body +out to Meigg's Wharf an' set her afloat."</p> +<p class="pnext">Stirling shook his head. He heard behind him the soft step of the +piano-player who came from a door set near the piano.</p> +<p class="pnext">"I'll swing for it," he said to the Ice Pilot, a whine in his voice. +"Help me out of th' mess, matey. Let's set Thedessa adrift—she always +wanted to float out to sea that way."</p> +<p class="pnext">Stirling felt an urging glance from the sailor who resembled the +second-lieutenant. He moved to this man's side and was going to question +him when the wick of the lamp sputtered and went out.</p> +<p class="pnext">Another wick was lighted and this was thrust in the mouth of a wine +bottle, where it flared like a torch at sea.</p> +<p class="pnext">"What d'ye say?" questioned the piano-player. "What does everybody say? +Th' police will pinch us all for th' murder an' keep us in jail for +weeks."</p> +<p class="pnext">"You knifed that woman!" declared Stirling.</p> +<p class="pnext">The piano-player blinked his pale lashes, then went to the door, drew a +key from his pocket, and threw back the bolt of the lock. He looked out +into the vale of mist and fog that stretched from Telegraph Hill to the +waters of the Bay.</p> +<p class="pnext">"Who'll help me carry Thedessa?" he queried.</p> +<p class="pnext">A crimp, the waiter, and one or two seamen offered their services. +Stirling hesitated, but again he felt the urge from the +second-lieutenant, and agreed by nodding his head.</p> +<p class="pnext">The piano-player, who knew the path, led the way with the woman's feet +under his arm, the waiter and a seaman supporting Thedessa's head. +Stirling and the sailor brought up the rear.</p> +<p class="pnext">"My name is Eagan," said the sailor. "We'll go along and see what +happens. It's th' best way out of a nasty jam."</p> +<p class="pnext">"Were you in the Bering Strait three seasons ago?"</p> +<p class="pnext">Eagan shook his head, clutched Stirling's arm, and guided him after the +trio who had carried the woman out upon Meigg's Wharf and were lowering +her into a Whitehall boat.</p> +<p class="pnext">"No," he said to Stirling. "But I got something to say to you—after +awhile. Something important."</p> +<p class="pnext">The Ice Pilot hesitated on the stringer-piece of the wharf and looked +toward the fog-covered Bay, but again Eagan guided him on. They seized +hold of a painter that was hitched to a cleat, descended to the +Whitehall boat, and cast loose from the wharf.</p> +<p class="pnext">Thedessa lay in the stern of the boat where the piano-player and waiter +sat with their heads close together. A seaman rowed skilfully, and the +sharp-prowed boat cut through the short waves, swung, steadied, and made +toward a dark mass on the surface of San Francisco Bay.</p> +<p class="pnext">Stirling suddenly felt water around his boots. He glanced down and +lifted his feet. He heard a cry from the piano-player.</p> +<p class="pnext">"We're sinking! There's no plug in this boat!"</p> +<p class="pnext">Eagan attempted to find the plug-hole. He rose with his hands dripping +bilge muck. The man at the oars dug the blades deep into the bay, bent +his back, and dug again as if his life were at stake.</p> +<p class="pnext">Stirling climbed into the bow of the boat, stared through the fog, and +heard a ship's bell striking. He motioned for the oarsman to row in +that direction, and the light craft steadied upon the dark mass.</p> +<p class="pnext">Reaching upward, the Ice Pilot warded off the boat and grasped a +dangling line that ran over a ship's rail at the waist. He nudged Eagan +and went hand-over-hand upward until one palm hooked the rail, then he +turned his head and looked at the boat.</p> +<p class="pnext">The piano-player, the waiter, and the woman—all three very much +alive—were standing on the thwarts. Eagan and the other seamen had +found lines up which they were climbing.</p> +<p class="pnext">Stirling saw the woman draw a bent knife from her breast, toss it +overboard, and wring the water from her skirts.</p> +<p class="pnext">He heard her mocking song as the Whitehall boat merged in the fog, and +finally was gone back toward Meigg's Wharf and the Blubber Room:</p> +<blockquote><div> +<div class="line-block"> +<div class="line"> +"It's 'rah for th' grog—</div> +<div class="line"> +Th' jolly, jolly grog!</div> +<div class="line"> +It's 'rah for th' grog an' tobacco!</div> +<div class="line"> +For you've spent all your tin with th' ladies, drinkin' gin,</div> +<div class="line"> +An' across th' brimy ocean you must wan—der——"</div> +</div> +</div></blockquote> +</div> +<div class="level-2 section" id="chapter-iion-a-man-s-sea"> +<h2 class="level-2 pfirst section-title title"><a class="toc-backref pginternal" href="#id3">CHAPTER II—ON A MAN'S SEA</a></h2> +<p class="pfirst">Breathing the invigorating night air, Horace Stirling climbed over the +ship's rail, squared his shoulders, and started toward the poop steps. +The consciousness that he had been shanghaied came to him; the sensation +was a novel one.</p> +<p class="pnext">He reached the weather steps. There he paused and swung, facing the +after part of the ship. A group of seamen were gathered in the waist. +They were receiving the shanghaied sailors who had been brought out in +the Whitehall boat.</p> +<p class="pnext">Stirling gathered in the details of the whaler and his jaw dropped in +wonder, while his eyes softened with an appreciative glow. He had never +sailed or steamed upon such a ship. She was complete and yachtlike, and +her deck house extended fore and aft between the main and mizzenmast. It +was such a cabin as one would expect to find on a government revenue +cutter. A squat, drab funnel reared from a boat deck, and glowed through +the mist like the end of a fat cigar.</p> +<p class="pnext">Stirling turned and mounted the poop, to face two of the men with whom +he had drunk in that tavern near the wharves. One thrust out a hamlike +hand. "Remember me?" he said, with a twinkle in his eyes. "I'm Cushner +who took the Anderson expedition to the mouth of the Lena River. You +were ice pilot of the <em class="italics">Northern Lights</em> that season. You gammed us in +Bering Strait. Remember?"</p> +<p class="pnext">Stirling stared up into the big seaman's face, squinting his eyes in an +attempt to recall a vague memory. Slowly the details of the Anderson +expedition came back to him.</p> +<p class="pnext">"You're Cushner!" he blurted out. "By the jumpin' bowheads, you are! +Who's the little fellow?" Stirling motioned toward the second seaman who +had descended the lee poop steps and started forward to where a knot of +men were gathered about the corner of the deck house.</p> +<p class="pnext">The big mate of the ship leaned over the quarter-deck rail and said: +"He's Marr—Captain Marr of the Baffin Bay crowd. See, he's mixin' with +th' men. No man leaves this ship, but you, out of the bunch. Sailors are +scarce as bowheads in the western ocean these days."</p> +<p class="pnext">"Do you need a pilot?"</p> +<p class="pnext">"We certainly do! You can come if you want to."</p> +<p class="pnext">"How about this ship?"</p> +<p class="pnext">"She's the <em class="italics">Pole Star</em>. She once was called the <em class="italics">Alexander</em>. She was a +Russian yacht. She's fitted out for whaling and trading. Good food and +all that. The old man will be glad to sign you on a big lay. We're going +right up in the ice."</p> +<p class="pnext">"Who'll be the afterguard?"</p> +<p class="pnext">"Well, you'll make one if you join us. There's Marr and Whitehouse, who +just came by rail. That puts me back to second mate. Then there's +Sanderson and Manley—third and fourth. Besides, there's Maddox and +Baldwin of the engine-room force. It's a good outfit. Fair play and +money to be had."</p> +<p class="pnext">Stirling rubbed his nose, lifted his eyes to the rigging, squared his +shoulders, and turned toward Cushner. "How about all this?" he asked +with a wide sweep of his arm. "Kind of queer, eh?"</p> +<p class="pnext">"Well, no," drawled the big mate, tugging at his long beard. "No; not +that I know of, Stirling. Everything's on deck as far as I can see. The +old man is a part owner—it's a private venture. He and Whitehouse know +their business. Just keep your tongue spliced and say nothing. The old +man will be in the cabin at six bells. We'll talk to him then; if you +want to go ashore, you can. If you stay, I'll promise you some fair game +on a man's sea."</p> +<p class="pnext">Stirling took a turn about the quarter-deck of the <em class="italics">Pole Star</em>, then +came back to the rail and leaned over. Marr had disappeared.</p> +<p class="pnext">A bell struck over the misted waters of the city, and was followed by +others. A roar sounded to the westward, where the surf beat upon Seal +Rocks and the entrance to the harbour. A salty gust stirred the standing +rigging of the ship, and it filled the Ice Pilot's lungs with remembered +calling. He braced his shoulders, lifted his head, and felt like a man +who has shaken off a bad dream. He was going North again, on a good ship +with a staunch crew.</p> +<p class="pnext">Stirling turned toward the big mate, who stood under the shadow of a +long, white whaleboat. "I'll join," the Ice Pilot said, simply. "Let's +go below and see Marr. It's six bells and more. Like as not he and I can +get along. I ain't a hard man to please. Only, this has got to be an +honest voyage. I ain't in for anything downright crooked. It ain't my +nature!"</p> +<p class="pnext">"Mine, neither," said Cushner. "Come on!"</p> +<p class="pnext">Stirling followed the second mate across the deck to an ornate companion +close by the taffrail, and they descended by turning, in the manner of +seamen the world over. Stirling removed his cap and stood rooted in the +doorframe as his eyes gathered in the details of the cabin.</p> +<p class="pnext">A soft electric cluster shone overhead, and walls and bulkheads were +hung with draperies. The deck was covered with Persian carpets, while +here and there—scattered in haphazard fashion—gleamed the tawny yellow +pelts of wild animals.</p> +<p class="pnext">Athwart the ship, from inner skin to inner skin, the cabin extended, +with staterooms fore and aft of the companion stairway. The round +portholes, covered with silken curtains, alone remained to tell that the +room was upon a ship.</p> +<p class="pnext">Stirling blinked his eyes, then opened them wide and drank in the +details of wealth and luxury. He stared at shelves of morocco-bound +books, their titles stamped in gold; he noted a baby-grand piano—the +first he had ever seen—lashed with silken cords to the after bulkhead. +Upon it music lay in well-bound sheaths.</p> +<p class="pnext">Cushner advanced and gripped the Ice Pilot's elbow. "Come on," he +whispered, pointing toward an alcove between two bookcases. "The captain +is sitting there."</p> +<p class="pnext">Half hidden by a portière, stretched three quarter length upon a divan, +Marr reclined, deep in a book of modern verse. He lifted his legs and +dropped them to the deck, laid the book down, and rose with a quick +thrust of his hand toward Stirling. "Be seated," he said, clasping the +Ice Pilot's hand with a nervous grip then indicating a long, cushioned +seat.</p> +<p class="pnext">Stirling followed the second mate's example and sat down on the nearest +cushion, stretching out his long legs, hitching up his trousers, and +fingering his cap. He raised his chin and met Marr's eyes, studying the +clean-cut nostrils of the little captain. He gauged the mentality of the +man, and thrashed the events of the night over in his mind as he held a +steady poise.</p> +<p class="pnext">"This is Horace Stirling!" blurted out Cushner, with a voice like a +bull. "He's the best all-around whaler and ice pilot in the game. I +didn't recognize him in that room in Frisco. We landed a bigger fish +than we thought. I reckon he can go ashore if he wants to. We can't +keep him unless he wants to stay."</p> +<p class="pnext">"How about it?" asked Marr.</p> +<p class="pnext">Stirling fingered his cap, but he had already made up his mind. The ship +suited him, Cushner was a good mate, and the North called with all the +strength of the wide places.</p> +<p class="pnext">"I'll sign on," he said, simply. "Like as not I couldn't do better. I +don't like the way you shipped part of your crew; outside of that, this +suits me, if it's honest."</p> +<p class="pnext">"The crew," said Marr, softly, "was a serious problem. I wanted a few +more men, and just at the time I saw no other way to get them than by +straight, old-time shanghaing. It worked!"</p> +</div> +<div class="level-2 section" id="chapter-iiiover-the-quarter-deck"> +<h2 class="level-2 pfirst section-title title"><a class="toc-backref pginternal" href="#id4">CHAPTER III—OVER THE QUARTER-DECK</a></h2> +<p class="pfirst">The Ice Pilot placed the captain as he listened to the apology—Marr was +of a nature to brook no excuse. He had determined upon sailing the <em class="italics">Pole +Star</em> for a voyage of discovery and profit, and he had acted outside the +law in order to obtain a crew. This was not unusual upon the Coast of +Barbary. Stirling, as honest as a dollar, had seen the same method +employed before, and he puzzled his brain for a deeper motive, which +might be behind the little skipper's steel-gray eyes.</p> +<p class="pnext">There seemed no fathoming the beard-hidden face of the captain, and +Stirling leaned back, dropping his eyes to the rug at his feet, where he +studied the polished points of his shore boots.</p> +<p class="pnext">"We go with the tide at sunup," said Marr. "This is the reason, and the +only one, that we took matters in our own hands and obtained a complete +crew. Whalers must have a bad odour in these waters, from all +indications."</p> +<p class="pnext">Stirling glanced up. He nodded.</p> +<p class="pnext">"We go North," continued Marr, rubbing his hands together. "North, for a +season of seven months, to whale! Mr. Cushner knows who I am. The mate, +Mr. Whitehouse, is ashore. He'll be out very soon, and he'll attest to +my financial responsibility. Roth & Co. have outfitted the <em class="italics">Pole Star</em>. +They know me! I'll take Mr. Cushner's word that you are a first-class +ice pilot. You sign on with me and I'll see that you get a thousand +dollars in minted gold when we drop anchor at Frisco. In addition to +that bonus, I'll give you the lay of the mate—a one-twenty-fifth of the +proceeds of the voyage. Is that satisfactory?"</p> +<p class="pnext">Stirling considered the figures mentioned. The amount was at least a +captain's share in the old days of whaling.</p> +<p class="pnext">"That's handsome enough, captain," he said. "That suits me. But one +thing—I'm plain spoken—is this ship going whaling, or something else? +I want to know."</p> +<p class="pnext">Marr smiled pleasantly. "Why did you ask?" he said, stroking his Vandyke +beard with slender fingers.</p> +<p class="pnext">"Only to know. You see, I can go ashore and sign on with one of +Larribee's ships. Larribee knows me. I brought in many a head of bone +for him."</p> +<p class="pnext">"And you'll do the same for me!" exclaimed Marr, resting his hand on +Stirling's shoulder. "Sign on and I'll promise you that there will be no +regrets. All's honest and aboveboard. Whitehouse—Mr. Whitehouse is an +English gentleman. He talks like a cockney, but that is an affliction. +You'll get along with him. He's new to the Bering."</p> +<p class="pnext">"I'll sign!" said Stirling, rising. "I'll have to get my dunnage bag. +It's at Antone's, down by the ferry."</p> +<p class="pnext">"We'll tend to that!"</p> +<p class="pnext">Stirling turned toward Cushner. "Have you entirely outfitted?" he asked, +professionally. "Got all of your whaling gear aboard?"</p> +<p class="pnext">"We have! Six boats! A forehold chockablock and whale line and irons. +Papers, everything, all right to clear. Some of the crew have been North +before. The rest can learn. You and I can tend to that, eh?"</p> +<p class="pnext">Stirling swept the cabin comprehensively. "Too fine a ship to buck the +old floes with," he said, glancing down at the skipper.</p> +<p class="pnext">"Nothing too fine for the North!" exclaimed Marr. "Write me out an order +for your bag. I'll send Snowball, my cabin boy, with the dinghy."</p> +<p class="pnext">Stirling scribbled an order on the back of a shipping master's card. He +passed it over to Marr, who touched a button at the end of the piano. A +negro, sleepy-eyed and curious, thrust a kinky head through an after +doorway.</p> +<p class="pnext">Marr stepped over the rugs and whispered his instructions. Stirling, +whose ears were sharp, caught a command to wait on shore for somebody. +This order was repeated.</p> +<p class="pnext">The negro vanished, and Marr paced athwart the ship. Wheeling suddenly, +he listened with his ear cocked toward the deck beams. A shuffling of +feet sounded overhead as men sprang down from the rail. The bell in the +wheelhouse struck seven times. It was echoed from forward.</p> +<p class="pnext">"That's Whitehouse!" said the captain. "We'll all have a drink!"</p> +<p class="pnext">The slide to the deck companion opened, and two men descended. One was a +square block of a man, with long arms and a pair of bushy brows which +thatched perpetually smiling eyes. He was Baldwin, the American +engineer.</p> +<p class="pnext">The second man held Stirling. "Mr. Whitehouse," Marr introduced, with a +comprehensive chuckle as he nodded toward the English mate.</p> +<p class="pnext">Whitehouse had the long, beaklike nose of the typical cockney, while his +lips were thick and somewhat red. His tanned features and knotted hands, +his quick manner and alert stride, spoke the Dundee and Grimsby whaler, +who had sailed many seas and fastened to more than an ordinary number of +bowhead whales.</p> +<p class="pnext">"We're all here!" declared Marr. "Ship's completely outfitted with +seamen and material. We'll drink to success!"</p> +<p class="pnext">The little captain disappeared through an after doorway, returning with +a tray and a bottle. Setting these down on a table, he drew forth a +chart of the Arctic and Bering Sea.</p> +<p class="pnext">"While we're drinking," he said, hardening his eyes, "let's look over +the chart. You, Stirling, might help us out. Glad you're coming along."</p> +<p class="pnext">Stirling upended a decanter and poured out a generous portion of brandy. +He tasted this, wiped his mouth with the back of his hand, then leaned +forward over the chart. His finger traced a line from the Aleutians +northward.</p> +<p class="pnext">"There," he said, "is the first whaling ground—just the other side the +islands. The ice will lie about here, and the bowhead can't go north +till it opens. They're wise fish, but they can't get through any more +than we can."</p> +<p class="pnext">"How about the other whaling spots?" asked Marr.</p> +<p class="pnext">"Well, captain," said Stirling, "after the Bering Strait, you'll find +aplenty, there's Herald Island and Wrangel Land. There's Point +Barrow—I've caught late whales at the Point. Then there's the lane +between the grounded ice floes and the coast, all the way to the mouth +of the Mackenzie River. I've wintered three times at Herschel Island, +and we always got bone in the early spring when the ice broke."</p> +<p class="pnext">Marr leaned over the chart and asked softly: "How is the whaling close +to the Siberian shore? I've heard of catches in the Gulf of Anadir. I +think it would be wise that we go there as soon as the ice permits."</p> +<p class="pnext">Stirling glanced keenly at the little skipper, for he sensed a deeper +motive in the question. The Gulf of Anadir was close indeed to Russia. +It was a favourite sealing ground; few whales were to be found there. +The season was generally too late to capture any bowheads on account of +the ice barrier which held back the ships.</p> +<p class="pnext">"I don't recommend it," he said, simply. "I've been there twice. First +time was in the <em class="italics">Beluga</em>. We didn't fasten to anything that year. The +second time was in the old <em class="italics">Norwhale</em>—Captain Gully commanding. We +fastened to one head close by the Siberian shore. That was all. It's +barren waters unless you can put the ship in early."</p> +<p class="pnext">"Can't you do that?"</p> +<p class="pnext">"Not always; sometimes. I've seen the pack ice so thick at the +Pribilofs, or just north of St. Paul Island, that it was late in July +when we broke through and reached Bering Strait. We got nothing but some +trade stuff from the natives that season. It was too late to find +bowheads; they'd taken the Northeast Passage and gone through to Baffin +Bay."</p> +<p class="pnext">"Just the same," said Marr, "I'd like to try for the Gulf of Anadir. +Ever hear of Disko Island?"</p> +<p class="pnext">Stirling narrowed his eyes. Disko Island was the very heart of the +richest sealing ground in all the world—outside of the Pribilofs. It +belonged to Russia, and around it were gunboats of England, Japan, and +the United States.</p> +<p class="pnext">"I know it well," he said, dryly. "There's plenty of seals there, but +darn few bowheads!"</p> +<p class="pnext">Marr glanced at Whitehouse, then his eyes travelled the circle and +rested upon the chart. He followed Stirling's pointing finger.</p> +<p class="pnext">"It's a blym shame!" blurted out the English mate. "It's an outrage that +them Russians got all them nice little pelts. What's the 'arm in lookin' +the island over? Who's going to bother now? Who's running Russia, +anyway?"</p> +<p class="pnext">"The Bolsheviki," said Marr. "What do you say we take a look at the +island? Stirling can put us through the early ice. We'll skirt the +Siberian shore afterward. I want to drop in at East Cape, they say +trading is good there."</p> +<p class="pnext">Stirling gripped a glass and raised it to his lips. He stared at the +chart, then fastened a penetrating glance which bored into the little +skipper's brain, and smiled faintly as Marr remained silent.</p> +<p class="pnext">"I'm willing," he said. "I'll take you anywhere. We're all together. I +see no harm in looking over Disko Island."</p> +<p class="pnext">"All we want," said Cushner, rising, "is to follow the skipper, here, +and keep our jaw tackle closed. He'll bring results!"</p> +<p class="pnext">Stirling was watching Marr's face, which lightened perceptibly.</p> +<p class="pnext">The captain of the <em class="italics">Pole Star</em> thrust his hand out, palm upward. "Well +spoken," he said. "I'll guarantee good results!"</p> +<p class="pnext">Marr rolled up the chart with a swift whirl of his hands, then rose and +stared at Baldwin, who had remained silent.</p> +<p class="pnext">"Have you everything aboard?" the little skipper asked.</p> +<p class="pnext">"Yes; we're coaled. I can safely say the engine-room force is complete. +Naturally we'll have to recoal at whatever point we can on the Siberian +coast or at Unalaska. The bunkers are chockablock, but you know that ice +work takes the steam. And coal is high; it'll be about twenty dollars a +ton at Dutch Harbor or Point Barrow, if there's any there at all."</p> +<p class="pnext">"Confounded little!" blurted Stirling. "There's an on-shore whaling +station there and a missionary settlement. But"—the Ice Pilot paused +and smiled at a memory—"there's a spot on the coast east of Point +Barrow where we can dig out all the coal we need. I know it. I was there +in the old <em class="italics">Northern Lights</em>, and I saw more coal than you could find in +Pittsburgh. There's mountains of it hidden under the snow."</p> +<p class="pnext">"That's fine!" Marr exclaimed. "We'll fill the bunkers there. Now +everybody stand up and we'll drink a final toast to the success of our +venture. What'll the toast be?"</p> +<p class="pnext">"To a full hold of bone!" Stirling suggested.</p> +<p class="pnext">Marr glanced at Whitehouse. The mate winked and stared at his glass. +"I'd say," he muttered, "that there's a better toast. Let's all drink to +success at Disko Island, where the seals are."</p> +<p class="pnext">Stirling grew thoughtful. Again the subject of seals had come up, and he +glanced from face to face about him. The circle of men who comprised the +afterguard of the <em class="italics">Pole Star</em> would have supported most any desperate +enterprise. None was a young man; all were experienced.</p> +<p class="pnext">Stirling set down his glass. Marr had stepped toward the after bulkhead +of the cabin, and rested his hand on the piano.</p> +<p class="pnext">A slight bump, as if a small boat had touched the outer run of the ship, +sounded, and this was followed by steps on the deck overhead. Voices +echoed, and a low call drifted through the open portholes.</p> +<p class="pnext">The captain turned with a quick jerk and glanced upward, his hand lifted +for silence. There came a knocking on an after door. This knocking was +repeated.</p> +<p class="pnext">"Good-night, gentlemen!" Marr exclaimed. "Get to your bunks and turn in. +I'll expect you at sunup. We'll sail then!"</p> +<p class="pnext">Stirling followed the big second mate, who knew the run of the ship. As +they stood at last in the waist where the shadow of the dark deck house +lay across the planks, two riding lights shone through the mist, and a +flare marked the cap of the rakish funnel. High steam was in the <em class="italics">Pole +Star's</em> boilers.</p> +<p class="pnext">"Who came aboard?" asked Stirling with directness.</p> +<p class="pnext">Cushner gripped his palms, gulped, and stroked his long, pointed beard, +then turned and stared at the low rail which was over the break of the +quarter-deck.</p> +<p class="pnext">"A passenger!" he said.</p> +<p class="pnext">"A passenger?"</p> +<p class="pnext">"Sure! Didn't you hear the voice? It was a woman's. At least, it sounded +that way to me. They're always bad luck at sea."</p> +<p class="pnext">"I've heard tell they are," said Stirling.</p> +</div> +<div class="level-2 section" id="chapter-ivon-the-sparkling-sea"> +<h2 class="level-2 pfirst section-title title"><a class="toc-backref pginternal" href="#id5">CHAPTER IV—ON THE SPARKLING SEA</a></h2> +<p class="pfirst">The pall which lay around the <em class="italics">Pole Star</em> was like an ultramarine depth. +The narrow circle of visible waters rose and fell sullenly, while aloft +the taper spars merged into the mist. Now and then a grinding jerk of +the anchor chain sent a vibrating shudder from stem to jack staff. Below +the holystoned decks the watch snored, unaware that the tide hung at its +flood and that a wan yellow sun was rising over the Coast Range like a +paper lantern in a summer's garden.</p> +<p class="pnext">Stirling moved restlessly, his eyes opened like a quiet child's, and he +surveyed his cabin. The events of the night and the early morning rushed +back to him, and he blinked as he caught a reflection of his face in a +white-bordered mirror at the head of the bunk.</p> +<p class="pnext">He sprang to the deck, ducked his head in a basin, tested the taps, then +dried himself with a thick towel. Staring about, he found his clothes +hanging from hooks on the ship's sheathing. Donning the clothes, he +opened the door and strode out into an alleyway which led to the waist +of the ship. He lifted his eyes to the mist as he emerged upon the damp +planks and sniffed the morning air.</p> +<p class="pnext">"Howdy!" exclaimed Cushner from a position at the rail. "About time +you're risin'. We're going to yank the mudhook up as soon as Marr gives +the order."</p> +<p class="pnext">Stirling dropped his eyes and stepped to the mate's side. Staring over +the rail, he raised his finger, sniffed for a second time, then +declared: "She'll be clear by noon. This fog is light."</p> +<p class="pnext">Cushner led the way forward to the ornate forecastle and Stirling +glanced down through the open booby hatch, to where a row of bunks lined +each side of the ship. In these bunks seamen slept with their arms over +their faces and their legs extended. A molasses barrel was lashed to the +heel of the foremast, and on top of this barrel stood a large pan of +white bread. The entire forecastle struck Stirling as far too clean and +too large for a whaler's. It was more like an expensive yacht's.</p> +<p class="pnext">"Them's picked men!" said Cushner. "Some has been picked from the gutter +and some from the boarding houses. I guess I'll wake them. It's time for +both watches on deck."</p> +<p class="pnext">The second mate lifted a belaying pin from the pinrail and pounded upon +the deck like a policeman pounds on the pavement. "Rise and shine, +lads!" he shouted, leaning over the companion's coaming. "We've got to +pay Paddy Doyle for his boots. All out!"</p> +<p class="pnext">Cushner listened and then repeated his tapping. "All hands on deck!" he +called. "Step lively now, men! It's five bells an' th' tide is +turning!"</p> +<p class="pnext">Stirling heard protests from the sleepy crew; shoes flew across the +forecastle, pans banged, growls and feeble protests rose as the two +watches gathered together their clothes and attempted to dress in the +dark.</p> +<p class="pnext">"Coffee they get," said Cushner. "Coffee and eggs and plum duff and +white bread and bully beef. They're lucky. In my day we chewed hardtack +and drank bilge water. Whaling has changed!"</p> +<p class="pnext">Stirling nodded, and raised his eyes to the rigging of the <em class="italics">Pole Star</em>, +where spar varnish glistened from yards and masts, and snow-white canvas +looped downward like lingerie on clotheslines. The running rigging was +of new hemp. It all struck him as a dream as he turned and strode to the +rail by the port-anchor davit.</p> +<p class="pnext">"See here," he said to Cushner. "I doubt if there's a finer sea boat +afloat, but how about the ice? She's sheathed, but with wood. She ought +to have a steel plate forward."</p> +<p class="pnext">The big second mate grinned. "She's a good ice ship, Stirling," he said, +leaning over the rail and pointing downward. "That's teakwood and yew. +There's nothing better, and it don't impede her speed to any extent. You +ought to have been aboard coming up from Sandy Point—eleven point five +for days at a stretch. She'll do thirteen under forced draft. She'll do +two more knots with the wind abeam. That's six-day boat speed!"</p> +<p class="pnext">Stirling shook his head. He had been accustomed to blunt-bowed whalers +with solid planking forward and steel sheathing aft to the waist. It was +the only construction he knew of which would stand the grind of the +Northern ice floes.</p> +<p class="pnext">"Take a look at the whaleboats!" said Cushner. "Simpkins, of Dundee, +built them. They're mahogany trimmed. You don't often see that."</p> +<p class="pnext">Stirling climbed the lee fore shrouds and grasped a white boat's rail +where it swung from polished davits just aft the break of the forepeak, +and peered inside. The whaling gear was all in place; he counted two +tubs of whale line which was carefully protected by new tarpaulins. The +oars were fully sixteen feet in length, and paddles were racked beneath +the seats. A mast and boom—harpoons, lances, bomb guns, blubber spades, +bailing dippers—lay in position between the centerboard well and the +skin of the boat.</p> +<p class="pnext">"Good equipment!" he declared, dropping to the deck with a light +rebound. "They'll do. Wouldn't wonder if we have some sport this voyage. +Last season was a bad one. It ain't natural for two bad years to run +together. They take turns about—watch and watch."</p> +<p class="pnext">"She's well outfitted, Stirling. Thar ain't no better ship going North +this season. You ought to drop down into the engine room and see that +triple-expansion dream. Baldwin and Maddox say it's one of the finest +engines ever turned out of Clyde-bank. Russia bought good stuff in the +early days. She had the money then!"</p> +<p class="pnext">Stirling stared aft to the deck house, out of which sleepy-eyed Kanakas +and boat steerers were appearing, then stepped to one rail and studied +the swinging sheer of the <em class="italics">Pole Star</em>. He saw beyond the smoke of the +cook's stovepipe the swinging lift of the quarter-deck. Upon this a +figure strode from rail to rail. It was Marr.</p> +<p class="pnext">"How about that woman?" The question dropped from Stirling's lips as he +turned toward the Yankee second mate.</p> +<p class="pnext">"Your guess is as good as mine. I didn't know Marr had any woman in view +when he dropped anchor in this port. There's a kind of a law against +women going North in whalers, ain't there?"</p> +<p class="pnext">"The owners don't allow it! But then Marr is an owner. He could do +anything."</p> +<p class="pnext">Cushner stroked his beard. He twirled its point. "I heard voices on deck +last night," he said with reserve. "I'm willin' to venture five plugs of +tobacco that one was a woman's voice. Maybe she came out to say good-bye +to the skipper. Maybe she didn't. Maybe it's his wife."</p> +<p class="pnext">Stirling reached in the pocket of his pea-jacket and fished out a plug +of select tobacco. "I don't often chew," he said, "but I'll bet this +plug against another that it wasn't a woman's voice you heard."</p> +<p class="pnext">"You're on!" exclaimed the mate. "It was a woman's voice. She went +below, and she's aboard now. Time will fetch her out. Marr is as +close-mouthed as an oyster. She's some relation; that's sure!"</p> +<p class="pnext">Stirling pocketed the plug, folded his arms, and stood smiling before +the big mate. He shook his head. "I'll win that plug," he said, +sincerely. "I'm a simple man, Cushner. It don't stand to reason that +Marr would bring a woman on a whaling trip. If he's figuring on going to +Disko Island and the Siberian coast it would be dangerous. Those are +desperate seas!"</p> +<p class="pnext">"Here's the watches!" exclaimed the second mate. "Let's stir our stumps +and get the ship out, smart-like. We'll forget the lady till you see for +your own eyes. Likely she's pretty."</p> +<p class="pnext">Stirling snorted, his mind running back to his only love affair. It was +merged in the failure of a chicken farm over Oakland way. A widow had +cast eyes at the farm until the chickens began to pass away. This widow +had often dwelt upon the happiness of married life. Stirling, still in +his late forties, had thought long and seriously over the matter. He was +a man's man, and felt that women, and particularly dashing widows, +belonged to another sphere. They were as much out of his life as the +stars that floated in the heavens—as remote as the centre of the +antarctic continent. He had sailed the Northern seas too long and far to +allow his mind to dwell upon the land as a final anchorage to his +ambitions.</p> +<p class="pnext">He made his way aft to the wheel while the mate lunged forward and +joined the group upon the forecastle head. Marr stood close by the +binnacle, and just then turned to the wheelsman.</p> +<p class="pnext">"Stand ready," he said, raising his eyes to Stirling's. "You take +charge," he added, smiling faintly as the Ice Pilot shot a keen glance +upward where the morning sun was breaking through the last of the mist. +"The deck is yours, Mr. Stirling. Mr. Whitehouse will go forward and +join Mr. Cushner."</p> +<p class="pnext">Stirling squared his shoulders and braced his legs.</p> +<p class="pnext">The little skipper, spick and span in blue pea-jacket and well-cut +trousers, strode briskly to the quarter-deck rail and leaned over.</p> +<p class="pnext">"Steam on the winch!" he shouted. "Lively now, men!"</p> +<p class="pnext">A racking grind sounded, and the iron teeth of the winch swallowed the +rusty chain like a giant biting a meal. The ship steadied in the tide +which was flowing through the Golden Gate as the anchor lifted from the +mud and silt of the bay.</p> +<p class="pnext">"All's clear!" Cushner called over the whaleboats.</p> +<p class="pnext">"Hard aport!" said Stirling, sensing the position. "Put her hard aport. +Now up a spoke! More! Steady there!"</p> +<p class="pnext">Marr reached for the engine-room telegraph, a bell clanged below, the +single screw thrashed the water astern and the <em class="italics">Pole Star</em> rounded on a +long arc, gliding down the bay to a position off Meigg's Wharf.</p> +<p class="pnext">A pilot and the last papers were brought out in a revenue cutter as +Stirling kept the ship under bare headway. The siren aft the funnel +plumed into one short blast, and they were off on the first leg of the +passage to the Arctic and the Bering Sea.</p> +<p class="pnext">Foghorn and whistle sounded in cadence, and was answered from starboard +and port. Once a bell rang directly ahead through the fog. The engines +raced in reverse, and the <em class="italics">Pole Star</em> swung with her dainty jib boom +groping through the fog like an antenna. She straightened under the +pilot's directions.</p> +<p class="pnext">The veil thinned, as the sun struck through, bringing out the clean-cut +details of the yards and spars. A stagelike setting appeared. To port +lay the city—hill after hill of close-packed habitations; to starboard +reared the green slopes of the Coast Range and the higher land of Mount +Tamalpais. Beyond and directly ahead the sun kissed the sparkling ocean.</p> +<p class="pnext">The <em class="italics">Pole Star</em> glided under the frowning guns of the Presidio, and +danced across the bar. The Cliff House and the seal rocks were thrown +astern. The land of California sank to a low, black line after the pilot +had been dropped upon the deck of a tossing kicker yacht.</p> +</div> +<div class="level-2 section" id="chapter-vinto-a-purple-twilight"> +<h2 class="level-2 pfirst section-title title"><a class="toc-backref pginternal" href="#id6">CHAPTER V—INTO A PURPLE TWILIGHT</a></h2> +<p class="pfirst">A breeze, fresh and gripping with the taste of brine, swept over the +stern of the ship and filled the canvas which Cushner and Whitehouse +ordered set. The anchor was brought inboard and lashed to the cleats +close by the port cat. The crew, feeling their sea legs, brought out +hose and swabs and started cleaning up the shore litter and dunnage, +working to the old-time chantey: "'Rah for the grog—the jolly, jolly +grog."</p> +<p class="pnext">Stirling turned the wheel over to the quartermaster after Marr had +indicated a compass point, then rolled across the quarter-deck and stood +by the green starboard light of the ship, which was turned out. He felt +the warm breath of the following wind, gulped the sea air, and squared +his shoulders, casting a shrewd eye at the poop-deck log, which was +outrigged from the starboard rail.</p> +<p class="pnext">The land of California was a haze over the starboard quarter. It lifted +in places like a cloud bank, and the cleft which marked the Golden Gate +was crossed by the white water of the bar. The Ice Pilot smiled, as the +simplicity of clean living came to him as a flood.</p> +<p class="pnext">He turned away from the land vision and studied the ship. On what +mission was she headed, he wondered? Upon what seas would they force the +taper jib boom? What trade stuff and spoil would be crammed between the +hatches? He revolved these questions over and over in his mind, and was +in the grip of the unknown. The little dapper skipper, the woman's +voice, the mention of Disko Island, and the seal rookeries, all wove +their spell:</p> +<blockquote><div> +<div class="line-block"> +<div class="line"> +"Though I plow the land with horses,</div> +<div class="line-block"> +<div class="line"> +Yet my heart is ill at ease,</div> +</div> +<div class="line"> +For the wise men come to me now and then</div> +<div class="line-block"> +<div class="line"> +With their sagas of the seas."</div> +</div> +</div> +</div></blockquote> +<p class="pfirst">He quoted this verse as he pulled out a great silver watch, gathered in +the log line, and timed fifty revolutions.</p> +<p class="pnext">The <em class="italics">Pole Star</em> was striking out into the Pacific on her first leg at +fourteen point three knots an hour.</p> +<p class="pnext">"Somebody's pullin' the strings," Stirling said as he let the slack out +of the line and replaced the silver watch. "Maybe the Mazeka girls of +Indian Point," he added, striding to the poop rail.</p> +<p class="pnext">He stared with idle interest at the crew which were still under the able +tutelage of Whitehouse and Cushner. The British whaler had a voice like +a costermonger, and "Blym me, yes" and "Heaven strike me pink" rolled up +the wind and burst like shrapnel upon the poop.</p> +<p class="pnext">Stirling narrowed his eyes, and indeed the sight of the two mates in sea +boots and the ragged crew swarming along the waist was one to charm the +heart of a sailor. It brought to his mind other voyages, and he recalled +an expedition he had piloted to Point Barrow and the reaches of the +Mackenzie. A younger son, with money to spend, had chartered a whaler +and taken the Northern seas in search of new game. Game he had found in +plenty: walrus, seals—both hair and fur—killer whales, bowheads, polar +bears, and musk ox had fallen to the younger son's rifle or harpoon. The +crew, however, had proved too strong a stench for polite nostrils. They +were picked from the slums of the Barbary Coast.</p> +<p class="pnext">The <em class="italics">Pole Star's</em> foremast hands and the most of the harpooners and boat +steerers would have delighted the eyes of an ethnologist. Stirling +studied them and called their breeds. One was a cockney, like the mate. +Another was a blue-eyed Dane. Three Gay Island natives were mixed with +two Kanakas. Two bore the high cheekbones of Swedes. Four, at least, +were Frisco dock rats who had been gathered in by the boarding-house +runners and promised an advance, little of which they secured.</p> +<p class="pnext">Stirling searched the faces for the sailor whom he had seen in the +Frisco room, but he was not in evidence. That sailor had impressed +Stirling as far out of the ordinary. It was not only the polished +fingernails and the resolute set to the jaw, but also the certain air +which the seaman had carried that led to the deduction that he had at +one time commanded other men.</p> +<p class="pnext">Cushner mopped his face with the back of his sleeve and worked aft to +the break of the poop on the starboard side where he glanced up at +Stirling.</p> +<p class="pnext">"Hello, old man!" he said, out of hearing of the busy crew. "What do you +think of the <em class="italics">Pole Star</em> by now?"</p> +<p class="pnext">"Good ship. Some crew, though."</p> +<p class="pnext">The second mate mopped his brow for a second time, then squinted at a +gang working down the deck with squeegees. "Eighteen hands before the +mast," he said. "That ain't much for six boats. We'll need them all if +we lower for bowheads."</p> +<p class="pnext">"Where's the sailor who came out with me?"</p> +<p class="pnext">"He's below!" This was said expressively, with a heavy wink. "I think +he'll stay below for a watch or two. Somebody—maybe it was +Marr—bounced a belaying pin over his figurehead. It'll heal in time."</p> +<p class="pnext">"What did you make of the sailor?"</p> +<p class="pnext">"Maybe a spy. Maybe a good man gone wrong."</p> +<p class="pnext">"He recognized Marr in the Blubber Room!"</p> +<p class="pnext">Cushner shook his head. "We'll watch that fellow like a killer whale. +He'll walk straight under me and Whitehouse."</p> +<p class="pnext">The second mate closed his jaws with a snap and glared forward, then was +off with a rolling lurch to where a slight spot showed on the deck. +Grasping a Gay Islander by the neck, he led him to the omission and +pointed downward. Stirling heard the racking volley of exclamations as +the native fell to work with vigour.</p> +<p class="pnext">The <em class="italics">Pole Star</em> plunged on. She took the long, oily rollers of the North +Pacific and parted them like a sharp knife going through frosting. She +was logging fourteen knots with reserve steam. The fore, main, and +mizzen sails filled and billowed and the foretopmast staysail and jib +held the following wind. Whitehouse, casting an eye aloft, ordered the +top-sails braced then sprang to the weather braces as the crew hauled +manfully under the directions of Cushner.</p> +<p class="pnext">Marr leaned over the canvas of the poop and rested his elbows on the +light rail, searching the sea ahead with his glasses. He turned to the +wheelsman. "How you heading?" he asked as the last yard was braced.</p> +<p class="pnext">"Nor'west by north."</p> +<p class="pnext">"Hold her northwest by north. Hold her steady!"</p> +<p class="pnext">The ship drove through the day and into a purple twilight, and the land +of California disappeared astern. It left to mark its position a low +line of gray clouds upon which the sun gleamed and paled and died to +darker hues.</p> +</div> +<div class="level-2 section" id="chapter-viby-the-great-circle-route"> +<h2 class="level-2 pfirst section-title title"><a class="toc-backref pginternal" href="#id7">CHAPTER VI—BY THE GREAT-CIRCLE ROUTE</a></h2> +<p class="pfirst">The steady clanking of the triple-expansion engines driving the screw at +a racing speed of one hundred and ten revolutions a minute, the glow +over the drab funnel, the hiss of sea alongside—these all denoted that +they were reaching for the far-off Aleutian and the pass that marked +Dutch Harbor, where whalers and Yukon boats left the Pacific and entered +the waters of the Bering Sea.</p> +<p class="pnext">Stirling shared the mess with Cushner and Whitehouse and the two +engineers. Marr had given orders that in no circumstances should he be +disturbed in the after cabin. This order, communicated by the cockney +mate, caused the conversation to veer from speculation to concrete +suspicions.</p> +<p class="pnext">Cushner rose from his meal with a nod toward Stirling. "Let's go on +deck," he said, steadying himself by grasping the racks. "Let's have a +smoke and turn about. Mr. Whitehouse has the watch till eight bells."</p> +<p class="pnext">Stirling crammed a palmful of tobacco into a cord-wrapped pipe, clutched +the second mate's arm, and led him to the waist of the ship, where they +stood beneath the shadow of the starboard whaleboat.</p> +<p class="pnext">"We're not wanted on the poop!" exclaimed Cushner.</p> +<p class="pnext">"The wheel's there and the binnacle's there, and the log line's there," +suggested Stirling, pressing his thumb down upon the glowing coals of +his pipe. "We've got to go aft."</p> +<p class="pnext">"'Only for duty,' that's what the old man said. What do you make of +that? He wants the after part of the ship to himself."</p> +<p class="pnext">"It's his ship, Cushner!"</p> +<p class="pnext">The Yankee mate counted on his fingers. "There's only two aft," he said. +"Two—the old man and Snowball, the cabin boy."</p> +<p class="pnext">Stirling pulled on his pipe. "How about the woman you heard?" he asked, +dryly.</p> +<p class="pnext">"Maybe she's there, Horace. Maybe she is! Maybe that's his reason for +wanting the quarter-deck to himself. He had two Gay Islanders rig up a +screen between the wheel and the taffrail. All that's aft of the screen +is the companion to the cabin and a bucket rack. Thar's just about room +to turn about in. A nice little cubby place I'd call it."</p> +<p class="pnext">Stirling thought the matter over, backing into the gloom and shading his +eyes. The tip of the wheel, with one spoke, showed over the low canvas +sail. Beside this spoke was the soiled tassel of the wheelman's cap. Aft +rose the mizzenmast with its spotless canvas billowing forward like +Carrara marble. The telltale on the top of the mast denoted a freshening +south wind. The swing of the ship, the thrust of the screw, the song +which sounded from forward where a group of seamen were gathered on the +forecastle head—all these spoke of action and a driving force to +Northern seas where hearts beat strong and staunch winds cut to the +quick.</p> +<p class="pnext">The Ice Pilot turned to Cushner, pressing the bowl of his pipe with his +broad thumb. "We're making good time," he said, thoughtfully. "Five days +of this and we'll sight our Aleutian landfall. I guess we'd better not +worry about the cubby-hole aft and the woman. I never could understand +them, anyhow."</p> +<p class="pnext">Cushner laughed and clapped Stirling on the back. He withdrew a foot or +more, spread his legs wide, and surveyed Stirling with mingled pride and +calculation.</p> +<p class="pnext">Cushner squinted as he drawled: "You're all right, old man! You ain't no +clothing-store dummy or one of them smart ducks with spar-deck shoes and +a gold lanyard to your watch chain; but you'll pass where they won't. +You're a man—every inch of you! I've heard thar ain't no better, when +it comes to ice work."</p> +<p class="pnext">Stirling was silent. He dragged on his pipe.</p> +<p class="pnext">"A woman's man," continued Cushner, "ain't for these seas or the seas +we're agoing to. And by saying that I don't mean no disrespect for the +skipper. I was with him coming round the Horn. A fighter, he is, and all +that—but there's a polish to him I don't like. It ain't natural. He's +like a polite boarding-house runner. Them's the sharks to look out for. +They know more than we do!"</p> +<p class="pnext">"We'll keep our jaw tackle chockablock!" said Stirling, tapping his pipe +against the rail and cramming it into his side pocket. "We'll sail ship +and tend to our duties. I'll get the crow's-nest up in the morning. +You'll find me ready for anything—short of breaking the law of the +three nations. I'll put the <em class="italics">Pole Star</em> where the old man says, but I +won't raid no rookeries with him. I won't do that!"</p> +<p class="pnext">The positive set to Stirling's jaw was a relief to Cushner. He nodded. +"Me, too," he said, moving aft. "I'm willin' to whale or trade or go to +the Pole with you in charge of th' ship."</p> +<p class="pnext">Stirling went to his cabin, latched the sliding door which led to the +starboard waist, and undressed slowly. He sank into a profound sleep, +broken once by a dream of Frisco and the Coast of Barbary.</p> +<p class="pnext">He awoke as the little marine clock above the bunk was striking seven +bells, reached to a shelf and drew toward him a compass set in a leather +binding. It was part of his possessions brought out in the dunnage bag +from Antone's cigar store.</p> +<p class="pnext">Steadying his compass by a crack at the head of the bunk, he made a +shrewd calculation as to the direction the <em class="italics">Pole Star</em> was heading.</p> +<p class="pnext">The course had been changed overnight. It was now northwest by west. The +needle vibrated with the throbbing of the engines, but each time it +settled back to the first point.</p> +<p class="pnext">Stirling rose and dressed without haste, clapped his cap on his head, +and strode through the doorway to the damp deck. Here he leaned over +the starboard rail and glanced downward at the swift-running foam which +seethed alongside the ship's planks, then raised his eyes and swept the +horizon. It was pale to the eastward with the first rosy flush of dawn.</p> +<p class="pnext">For a moment he remained in one position, then turned and stared aft +with his eyes wide and intent. The gloom which shrouded the poop of the +ship was lightened by the upward glow of an open companion, and a figure +stood to the extreme port side of the quarter-deck. This figure was +shrouded and muffled but the red reflection from the side light brought +out some details.</p> +<p class="pnext">Stirling gripped the rail and continued staring. It was Marr, no doubt, +who had taken the position so near the wheelsman. There was that to the +set of the head, however, which caused Stirling concern. Marr generally +held his chin high. This head, as seen over the drab canvas, was dropped +and thoughtful.</p> +<p class="pnext">The wheelsman turned and touched his cap. Stirling heard part of a +question, which concerned the course, and it was not answered. The +figure started, half leaned away, then swung about and disappeared in +the gloom of the smudge astern where the funnel smoke drifted and +swirled.</p> +<p class="pnext">The shaftlike light from the open cabin companion grew pale, then was +blotted out by a descending figure. A slide closed with a loud slam, and +the ship plunged on, leaving Stirling no wiser for his impressions. He +turned with a half grumble and hurried forward.</p> +<p class="pnext">Cushner was emerging from the deck house, having stolen a trip inside to +the cook's galley, where coffee was always steaming.</p> +<p class="pnext">"Good morning!" he exclaimed, recognizing Stirling's form on the deck. +"Sun's clear and wind's abeam—almost. Light wind and a flowing sea. +Good morning, I said!"</p> +<p class="pnext">"Who changed the course?" asked Stirling, point-blank. "We're not headed +right. We can't make Dutch Pass or anywhere near it on this tack. What +does Marr mean?"</p> +<p class="pnext">Cushner scratched his head, raised his hand, and pointed astern. +"Whitehouse gave me the new course when the watches were changed," he +said. "That's all I know. It's a long way from where we expected we were +going, Stirling."</p> +<p class="pnext">"Jumping bowheads, yes! It's toward the great-circle route. Another half +point and we'll be on it. What does that mean, Cushner?"</p> +<p class="pnext">"I'll be skull-dragged if I know!"</p> +<p class="pnext">"The great-circle route leads to Japan and northern China. We'll sight +Rat Island on this route, and miss the only good pass to the Bering by +five hundred leagues. That ain't right!"</p> +<p class="pnext">"Thar's a lot about this ship what ain't right!" declared the Yankee. +"We're in the hands of Captain Marr."</p> +<p class="pnext">Stirling reached for his pipe, gathered together a palmful of cut plug, +struck a sulphur match on the rail at his side and held the flame to the +bowl till it glowed. He drew in the smoke, then squared his jaw and +clamped the amber stem.</p> +<p class="pnext">"We'll keep our eyes open!" he said through white teeth. "I think I saw +the woman on the poop. I think it was a woman. She wouldn't answer the +man at the wheel. She had Marr's clothes on. That's mighty queer doings +for a simple whaler bound after bowheads and trade stuff!"</p> +<p class="pnext">Cushner thrust out a calloused hand. "Put it there," he said. "We'll see +this voyage through and find out what's wrong if it takes three seasons. +I'm just almighty curious to know!"</p> +</div> +<div class="level-2 section" id="chapter-viidrifters-and-derelicts"> +<h2 class="level-2 pfirst section-title title"><a class="toc-backref pginternal" href="#id8">CHAPTER VII—DRIFTERS AND DERELICTS</a></h2> +<p class="pfirst">Stirling kept a careful record of the changes given in the course of the +<em class="italics">Pole Star</em>, and found that the little skipper was reaching for the true +great-circle route to Yokohama. This was checked by Cushner, who was a +good rule-of-thumb navigator.</p> +<p class="pnext">They kept their observations from Whitehouse. The mate was a frugal soul +who spent much of his time driving the crew over the decks or keeping +them polishing the brass work with a sand-and-paste preparation which +was homemade and cheap.</p> +<p class="pnext">"Hit keeps 'em from thinking of their troubles," he had declared to +Stirling. "Now that the skipper has taken charge of the poop, there +isn't much for them to do."</p> +<p class="pnext">Stirling bided his time and kept a close watch on the quarter-deck. He +often saw Marr striding from port to starboard and back again directly +aft the wheelsman, though the canvas that had been rigged shut off most +of the view of the taffrail and the jack-staff. A position in the +crow's-nest, however, was a fair one to observe the after part of the +<em class="italics">Pole Star</em>. From this coign of vantage Stirling watched developments +with eyes which had been sharpened by suspicion and a determination to +find out the truth about the unknown woman.</p> +<p class="pnext">Cushner climbed up through the lubber's hole on the third day of the +outbound passage, lifted himself over the edge of the crow's-nest, and +dropped down beside Stirling.</p> +<p class="pnext">Their course had been changed a half point by Marr's orders. The wind +was southerly and came over the port quarter in soft billows of warmth. +It had been tempered by the Japan Current.</p> +<p class="pnext">"Got a chew?" asked the second mate, resting his elbows on the edge of +the crow's-nest and squinting aft to where the mizzen sail billowed, +with the yard set sharply around.</p> +<p class="pnext">Stirling passed over a plug. "Save me some," he said, slowly. "Go easy, +Sam. I don't often use the weed, but I may have to do something +desperate if Marr keeps changing his course. We're almost on the Japan +route. Another half point will see the great-circle route. That takes us +far up and out in the North Pacific. Wouldn't wonder if it was a +rendezvous."</p> +<p class="pnext">"What's that?" asked Cushner, clamping his huge jaws on the plug and +parting his icicle-like beard for a second bite.</p> +<p class="pnext">"A meeting-place. A gamming spot in the ocean!"</p> +<p class="pnext">Cushner understood the last. "Gamming" was a term used only by whalers. +It meant visiting another ship or being visited by the afterguard of a +whaler.</p> +<p class="pnext">"Maybe, Stirling. Maybe. Who could we gamm out in this ocean?" The +second mate swept an arm to the northward. A wild waste of harrowed +waters, stirred into whitecaps by the southern breeze, extended to a +linelike horizon. There was no speck or sail to gladden the view. It +appeared like a stretch which would reach infinity.</p> +<p class="pnext">"How about seals?" continued Cushner.</p> +<p class="pnext">"Ain't likely we're going after them," said Stirling.</p> +<p class="pnext">Stirling turned and stared down upon the quarter-deck. The wheelsman—a +Kanaka—hung on the spokes with his dark eyes glued into the binnacle; +the canvas shield was too high to allow a view of the taffrail and the +cabin companion. Once only Stirling saw moving shadows against the +light, as if more than one body had passed from starboard to port. He +frowned and turned away, as there was no way to discover the exact +situation.</p> +<p class="pnext">Cushner borrowed the plug of tobacco for a third bite, passing it back +without thanks. He stared at Stirling, lifted one huge leg over the edge +of the crow's-nest, waited till the ship steadied, and then was gone.</p> +<p class="pnext">Stirling remained. He glance ahead over the wilderness of Northern +waters, and the soft rush of their passage charmed him. The neat manner +in which the whaler cleft the seas, the throbbing of the sweet-running +engines, gladdened his heart, and he began to whistle a little tune of +the West coast. After all, he decided, the world was not such a bad +place for a man to fight in and conquer. He had made many mistakes. He +should have commanded a ship instead of being an ice pilot. The chicken +venture and the wiping out of his scanty fortune had been unfortunate. +It had set him back five years in his ambitions.</p> +<p class="pnext">His face lighted and grew resolute with the wine of living. He had a +code, which was the code of right. He had always played fair with seamen +and natives, and decided to see the voyage out, earn every penny he +could, then try for a ship of his own. Whalers would stake him to almost +anything. Marr might be open for an investment. The thing to do was to +keep the little skipper's good will, and watch developments, which came +fast enough.</p> +<p class="pnext">On the seventh day after leaving the Golden Gate, a gleam of light was +thrown upon the mystery of the great-circle passage.</p> +<p class="pnext">Stirling, Cushner, and Whitehouse stood in the waist of the ship with +nothing more to do than watch the crew lolling forward in indolent +respite from their light labours.</p> +<p class="pnext">The sun hung high in the south with gray clouds creeping up to it like a +closing hand. The wind had veered to the south and west, and canted the +whaler ever so slightly, as all yards were braced fore and aft.</p> +<p class="pnext">"What is the exact position?" asked Stirling, turning toward Whitehouse, +who had shot the sun and finished his figuring.</p> +<p class="pnext">"I make it 49-52 and 179-58! We're near the Aleutians and close to the +one hundred and eightieth meridian!"</p> +<p class="pnext">Cushner glanced at the sun. "We're about that!" he said with Yankee +shrewdness. "I can smell my position in these waters. I smell shore +stuff—fish and moss."</p> +<p class="pnext">"It comes down the wind!" snorted the cockney with a burst of disgust.</p> +<p class="pnext">"All the same, I don't need no sextant. All I need is a lead line and +experience."</p> +<p class="pnext">Whitehouse gulped at this and worked his brows up and down like a +gorilla, then turned toward the after part of the ship. "Seen the +skipper?" he asked. "Seen the old man? 'E's been shaved—'e 'as! 'E +looks fine—'e does!"</p> +<p class="pnext">"Shaved?" exclaimed Stirling, wheeling and staring at the quarter-deck. +"What do you mean? Has he taken off his beard?"</p> +<p class="pnext">"You're blym well right, 'e 'as! I wouldn't know 'im! Looks like a +regular, 'e does. All spick and span. 'E was askin' about our position +not a bell ago. 'E's expectin' to meet with something on these seas. +Likely it will be another ship!"</p> +<p class="pnext">"You and he are rather thick," suggested Stirling.</p> +<p class="pnext">"As thick as costermongers—once! Now 'e's retired from view like a +loidy of the music 'alls. I don't know what to think."</p> +<p class="pnext">The mate was evidently in earnest, and Stirling eyed him sharply, then +turned away and stared at Cushner. The Yankee hitched up his beard and +thrust it under the collar of his soiled pea-jacket—then started as he +glared toward the poop.</p> +<p class="pnext">"Old man wants you," he said. "He's callin' you, Mr. Whitehouse."</p> +<p class="pnext">The cockney mate braced his shoulders and hurried aft to the poop steps +on the weather side. He mounted them and disappeared behind the canvas +where Marr had sauntered.</p> +<p class="pnext">"What do you think?" asked Cushner.</p> +<p class="pnext">"Nothing yet, Sam. Hold your jaw tackle. Where did you first meet with +Whitehouse?"</p> +<p class="pnext">"The same day you was shanghaied. He came across the States by rail. He +brought two dunnage bags and a whacking accent with him. Had papers, all +right. Said he'd been in the British navy. I asked him why he left."</p> +<p class="pnext">"What did he say?"</p> +<p class="pnext">"He said it was a mere matter of five thousand pounds. That's just what +he said. That's money, isn't it?"</p> +<p class="pnext">"Considerable money! I wonder if he is under obligations to Marr in any +way?"</p> +<p class="pnext">"Might be. Looks mighty like it. At that, the old man isn't telling +anybody anything. He owns the ship. He's got a right to whale and seal +and trade with the natives. Nothing's going to stop him doing that."</p> +<p class="pnext">"Not if he goes after pelagic seals and keeps within the law."</p> +<p class="pnext">"Why is he working in these waters?"</p> +<p class="pnext">Stirling did not answer this question, but stared forward and directly +at the watch on deck. He counted them, searching for the seaman who had +put up the fight when brought aboard. He was not in evidence.</p> +<p class="pnext">"I wonder," asked Stirling, with a pucker on his brow, "if Marr expects +that crew to follow him in a lawless enterprise? Outside of three or +four, I know them from hearsay. They're drifters. They expect nothing +but an iron dollar. Larribee hasn't paid a whaling hand a cent over the +legal dollar in five seasons. He figures the advance money and the stuff +they draw from the slop-chest is enough for sea scum. He has no heart at +all!"</p> +<p class="pnext">"Dirty work!"</p> +<p class="pnext">"It is," said Stirling, sincerely. "Particularly when they don't even +get the advance money. The boarding-house keepers, crimps, and runners +get that. They furnish a man with an outfit and a dunnage bag. The +outfit consists of a 'donkey's breakfast' for a mattress and a pair of +pasteboard sea boots which will melt under the first hose. That's no way +to send a man North!"</p> +<p class="pnext">Cushner glanced at the Ice Pilot. He shook his head. "You're sticking up +for poor Jack," he said. "That's no more than right. The laws are all +for the owners and the boarding-house crimps. Poor Jack is friendless. +What can he do?"</p> +<p class="pnext">"There's seamen and seamen, Sam! There's the coasting crews and the +deep-water bunch who know enough to get big wages and hold to the +Union. The ones who suffer are boys like we got forward. They have no +chance; they work eight months for an iron dollar and are cheated out of +that!"</p> +<p class="pnext">Cushner slanted his eyes forward. "They don't look as if they'd care +what happened," he said. "Marr, or anybody else, could give them a good +argument and they'd follow him to the end of the world. Five square +faces of gin and tobacco would buy the whole fo'c's'le."</p> +<p class="pnext">Stirling lifted his strong shoulders expressively. "You're partly +right!" he admitted. "I wouldn't blame them, either. But you're here and +I'm here, and we're going to see that this ship keeps within the law."</p> +</div> +<div class="level-2 section" id="chapter-viiion-a-lower-bunk"> +<h2 class="level-2 pfirst section-title title"><a class="toc-backref pginternal" href="#id9">CHAPTER VIII—ON A LOWER BUNK</a></h2> +<p class="pfirst">Suddenly Stirling ceased speaking and strode to the rail, glancing +keenly under the shelter of his right palm.</p> +<p class="pnext">"Speck in sight!" he called. "Looks like a ship headed this way! Make it +out, Cushner?"</p> +<p class="pnext">The second mate strained his eyes, then mopped them with his sleeve and +tried again. "Not yet," he said. "You have fine sight. Where away?"</p> +<p class="pnext">"About two points off the bow. There she is. See her? A brig, I think. +See the smoke?"</p> +<p class="pnext">Cushner nodded with a sudden jerk of his chin. "Just a smudge. She's +hull down!"</p> +<p class="pnext">It was a full half hour later before Stirling made out the Japanese flag +which fluttered at the stern of the brig. He called out her nationality +then swung and glanced toward the poop and the wheelman. Marr stood +under the shelter of the rail with both elbows resting upon the canvas +and a pair of twelve-diameter glasses focused ahead. He lowered these +glasses, reached for the engine-room telegraph, and the throbbing of the +<em class="italics">Pole Star's</em> screws died to a quiver. The yards were braced back and +the whaler came up into the wind with scant headway. This brought the +Japanese brig upon the starboard waist.</p> +<p class="pnext">The funnel of the strange ship belched forth a volcano of smoke which +could come only from Japanese coal. She wallowed across the sea and came +up into the wind on the same tack as the <em class="italics">Pole Star</em> was headed.</p> +<p class="pnext">A longboat was dropped awkwardly. Seamen to the number of four swarmed +overside and waited for a fifth figure to descend a ladder lowered for +his benefit. The boat sheered from the brig and danced across the waves +under the swing of four oars which were smartly handled.</p> +<p class="pnext"><em class="italics">Penyan Maru</em> was the name Stirling made out on the brig as it hove to a +double cable's length away. A greater contrast to the <em class="italics">Pole Star</em> could +not have been fashioned. Built in Japan before the war, the brig still +carried some of the top-hamper which rightly belonged to a junk. Her +yards were canted, her masts sloped forward instead of aft, her standing +rigging was loose and weather-rotted.</p> +<p class="pnext">Along the rail of the <em class="italics">Penyan Maru</em> ran a line of pigeon-blue boats +which were too large for dories, too small for whaleboats. She bore the +unmistakable evidence of a Japanese sealer, a vampire of the sea—as +much an object of suspicion to every revenue cutter as a jailbird would +be to a self-respecting policeman.</p> +<p class="pnext">The four seamen who rowed the longboat lifted their oars smartly enough +as they rounded under the starboard rail of the <em class="italics">Pole Star</em>. +Whitehouse, on the poop, lowered a bosn's ladder, and up this climbed +the figure of a man who would have attracted attention on any ocean.</p> +<p class="pnext">He was fat and yellow; his moon-broad face was stabbed here and there +with tiny bristles like the nose of a walrus; his slanted eyes glittered +and beamed as he raised himself over the rail, took Whitehouse's hand, +and sprang to the deck of the <em class="italics">Pole Star</em>. He advanced to Marr's side +with a rolling waddle, and the two men clasped in friendly grasp. It was +evident to the watchers on the whaler that they were friends.</p> +<p class="pnext">They stood a moment on the deck, then Marr pointed toward the north and +east. The Japanese followed his direction, smiled blandly, and whispered +something into the little skipper's ear. They went below by way of the +cabin companion, the slide of which they closed after them.</p> +<p class="pnext">Stirling glanced keenly at Cushner, walked to the rail, and leaned over +with his eyes fixed upon the dingy sides and crazy rigging of the +sealer. He dropped his glance and studied the four of a crew who were +alongside the whaler's run, just aft the break of the poop. These seamen +made no effort to communicate in any way with the crew of the <em class="italics">Pole +Star</em>. They sat silently waiting for their master to return.</p> +<p class="pnext">Cushner rolled to Stirling's side and leaned his elbows on the rail. He, +too, glanced at the small boat and its contents.</p> +<p class="pnext">"A sealer's crew," he said. "Them's Japanese sealers. See the rifles and +the clubs. They ain't found in an ordinary boat. They're for pelagic +sealing, or any other kind. Nice-lookin' outfit."</p> +<p class="pnext">"Efficient and minding their own business!" declared Stirling.</p> +<p class="pnext">"What did you think of the emperor who came aboard? He was welcome!"</p> +<p class="pnext">Stirling turned and glanced toward the poop. "Sam," he said, "there's +more things on these seas than we will ever know. That brig is a supply +ship of some kind. If not that, it is going to meet us at some later +date and take off our trade stuff."</p> +<p class="pnext">"Also seal pelts."</p> +<p class="pnext">"Yes; seal pelts if they're secured in an honest manner. I don't care +where Marr disposes of his catch, as long as the catch is square and +aboveboard!"</p> +<p class="pnext">"Here comes the walrus again. Look how he's smiling. They must have had +a nip of gin. Marr is rubbing his hands like as if he'd made a good +bargain."</p> +<p class="pnext">The Japanese waddled to the rail, climbed upward, and descended the +ladder to the waiting small boat. Marr stood over him and cast off the +painter, and the boat sprang away from the sheer of the <em class="italics">Pole Star</em>. It +danced across the sea, vanished under the <em class="italics">Penyan Maru's</em> counter, and +was hoisted aboard.</p> +<p class="pnext">A plume of black Japanese coal smoke shot up from the rusty funnel. The +yards were squared and the sealer wallowed toward the north and west, +vanishing in a cloud of its own making.</p> +<p class="pnext">A bell later Marr gave the order for a change of course and reached for +the engine-room telegraph. The screw thrashed; the crew sprang to +weather and lee braces. The <em class="italics">Pole Star</em> started back over the old +pathway on the trackless ocean. Her compass point had been given as +east.</p> +<p class="pnext">It was a hushed company that gathered about the table that night in the +steerage of the <em class="italics">Pole Star</em>. The change of course, the gamming by the +Japanese sealer, the mystery of the skipper's actions—all these drove +silence into the mates' hearts.</p> +<p class="pnext">Stirling and Cushner soon departed and left the first and second +engineer to their thoughts.</p> +<p class="pnext">The two seamen, who had found a tie in common, strode to the forepeak of +the whaler, lighted their pipes from the same match, and stared out over +the dark velvet of the North Pacific.</p> +<p class="pnext">Cushner dragged on his stem for a long five minutes. He was awakened to +speech by the striking of the ship's bell forward when the lookout +lifted a marlinespike from the belfry and chimed two short strokes, +repeated by two more.</p> +<p class="pnext">"Four bells!" declared the Yankee. "She's four bells, Stirling. Four +bells, an' we're going back. Wouldn't wonder if we make California for +our first landfall."</p> +<p class="pnext">Stirling squared his shoulders, removed his pipe from his mouth, and +stared at the glowing bowl. He pressed the coals down with his broad +thumb, wheeled sharply, and glared aft. His face hardened as he made out +a shadow on the poop, and tried to discern if it were Marr. A swing of +the ship, the lowering of the mainsail at the sheet, blotted out his +view.</p> +<p class="pnext">He turned and gripped Cushner's arm. "We're not going to Frisco," said +the Ice Pilot. "We're headed for Dutch Pass and the Bering Sea. We're a +point south of the true course for that, but Marr is taking advantage of +the drift."</p> +<p class="pnext">"Why didn't he go through one of the outer straits? There's plenty by +the Rat Group."</p> +<p class="pnext">"Perhaps he wants to coal at Unalaska. He could take aboard fifty tons +there."</p> +<p class="pnext">"How about the ice?"</p> +<p class="pnext">"It hasn't cleared yet. It lies about ten knots to the south'ard of the +Pribilofs. It'll break up and clear within a week, though. It always +does."</p> +<p class="pnext">Cushner nodded. He held a wholesome respect for Stirling's ice +knowledge. The pilot had no peer when it came to working through the +loose floes or finding a lane to the northward. These lanes were both +dangerous and deceptive, and many led to thicker floes and barren ice.</p> +<p class="pnext">"We'll soon be in the ice?" asked the second mate.</p> +<p class="pnext">"Five days, allowing for a day's stop at Unalaska. First comes the light +floes and the whale slick. Afterward is the barrier line which stretches +to the Pole. It starts to open and break. Through these lanes the +whales go into the Arctic. There's usually a big jam at Bering Strait. +The current sets east by north in summer and south by west in the fall. +There are no bergs north of the Aleutians or west of Point Barrow. +Leastwise, I never saw any!"</p> +<p class="pnext">"People always talk about the bergs of the Arctic."</p> +<p class="pnext">Stirling nodded. "I know that," he said with positive tones. "The reason +is not hard to find. There's bergs where there's glaciers. There's any +number of big fellows on the lower Alaskan coast. These bergs melt in +the warm Japan Current. The harbour of Unalaska and the strait at Dutch +Pass never freezes. That's on account of the same current."</p> +<p class="pnext">"But the Arctic bergs, Stirling?"</p> +<p class="pnext">"There's very few in the western Arctic. There's no glaciers along the +Northern coast of Alaska and Canada. There's a few on the Siberian +coast. The land is all low. The big floes—some of them a century +old—resemble small bergs. That's the reason for the mistake made by +Northern travellers."</p> +<p class="pnext">Stirling turned and tapped his pipe against the rail then pocketed it +and glanced aft. There was no sign on the poop of any watcher save the +wheelsman, whose eyes were glued ahead.</p> +<p class="pnext">Cushner yawned. "It's Whitehouse's watch," he said. "I'm going to turn +in. Good-night!"</p> +<p class="pnext">Stirling followed the second mate into the galley cabin, and climbed +into his bunk with a tired glance at the compass point. The <em class="italics">Pole Star</em> +was headed on the same course as given when they left the Japanese +sealer. The wind had veered and now swung from over the Aleutian +Islands—fifty miles to the northward. It was slightly tempered with +ice. Stirling closed his porthole and rolled over to sleep.</p> +<p class="pnext">He was awakened at midnight, and the change in the watch, by Cushner. +The second mate held a cautious finger over his mouth as he finished +shaking Stirling's shoulder.</p> +<p class="pnext">"Come on deck," the Yankee whispered. "Put on some clothes and hurry. I +got to relieve Whitehouse."</p> +<p class="pnext">Stirling rolled from his bunk, stood swaying on the deck, and drew on +part of his clothes. He finished by buttoning a great sea coat about his +sturdy form and clapping a cap down over his ears. Already the +temperature had fallen to a marked degree. He emerged to the waist of +the whaler and stood breathing great gulps of Arctic-tinged air which +sent the wine of living through his veins. He felt more of a man than he +had since his last venture in the Bering.</p> +<p class="pnext">Cushner touched his elbow. "Come forward," the mate said, softly. "Get +under the lee of the deck house and then the foresail. Don't make any +noise."</p> +<p class="pnext">The watch on deck had surged forward to the capstan, and some of the +watch below were climbing up through the booby hatch. Others were +gathered about the form of the sailor who had been in the Frisco room. +He lay across the soiled planks of the forecastle, his arms stretched +out, his legs extended and resting on the edge of a lower bunk.</p> +<p class="pnext">Stirling brushed aside the seamen who had gathered about the booby +hatch. The Ice Pilot descended backward and stood in the gloom of the +forecastle. A single electric globe was hung over a molasses barrel at +the heel of the foremast. Its light was far too pale to bring out the +details.</p> +<p class="pnext">"What happened?" asked Stirling, grimly.</p> +<p class="pnext">A dock rat, who had been shamming sickness during the voyage, thrust out +a frowsy head from the forepeak and said: "The crew beat him up. They +say he's a government spy. They say he's goin' to queer the skipper's +game with th' seals. He looks it—he does!"</p> +<p class="pnext">Stirling stooped and felt of the sailor's wrist. He examined a bruise on +the right temple then straightened and glanced up through the booby +hatch toward Cushner.</p> +<p class="pnext">"Go aft," he said, "and tell Mr. Marr to give you the medicine chest. +Tell him that——What does this fellow call himself?"</p> +<p class="pnext">"Eagan," said the dock rat; "Mike Eagan, so he says, Mr. Stirling."</p> +<p class="pnext">"Tell Mr. Marr that a seaman named Eagan was struck by a block. Don't +tell him what happened—yet. I'm going to look out for Eagan! If he +represents the United States he has got to be protected north of 53° as +well as south of that latitude!"</p> +<p class="pnext">Cushner hurried aft and mounted the lee poop steps.</p> +</div> +<div class="level-2 section" id="chapter-ixthe-polar-barrier"> +<h2 class="level-2 pfirst section-title title"><a class="toc-backref pginternal" href="#id10">CHAPTER IX—THE POLAR BARRIER</a></h2> +<p class="pfirst">Stirling had finished his examination of the seaman's wound by the time +Cushner returned from aft with the medicine chest. This contained +bandages and crude cures which had the merit of being overly strong.</p> +<p class="pnext">The Ice Pilot washed the wound with heavy fingers and pressed on a pad +of salve which was rank with iodoform and arnica. He glanced keenly at +Cushner, as Eagan sat up and stared about the forecastle with bewildered +eyes.</p> +<p class="pnext">"What did the old man say?" asked Stirling.</p> +<p class="pnext">"Not much! Said the crew of this ship looked able to dodge blocks."</p> +<p class="pnext">Stirling stooped to Eagan. "Who struck you?" he inquired, feelingly.</p> +<p class="pnext">The seaman pressed his left hand to the bandage, then eyed his fingers. +He gathered his senses, frowned deeply, staring about the empty bunks, +and up through the opening to the deck. Faces were pressed there, faces +curious and hard.</p> +<p class="pnext">"I wasn't struck!"</p> +<p class="pnext">The seaman's voice carried the lie in its tones. "I fell down over a +bucket," he continued. "Slipped, I guess. Must have hit the corner of +the molasses barrel. It's deuced sharp, it is."</p> +<p class="pnext">Stirling removed a small portion of salve from a can, spread it upon a +piece of paper, and handed it to the seaman with steady fingers.</p> +<p class="pnext">"You lie!" he said with clenched teeth. "You lie about falling down. +Remember that it may happen again."</p> +<p class="pnext">Eagan squared his jaw and glanced for a second time toward the booby +hatch then he rubbed his hands together, reached and took the salve +offered by Stirling.</p> +<p class="pnext">"I'll tend to the next time," he said, huskily. "I'll tend to it! I +don't need no afterguard to fight my battles. I can lick any three men +of this crew, Mr. Stirling."</p> +<p class="pnext">The Ice Pilot turned, strode across the rude planks of the forecastle, +and mounted the ladder to the deck. Cushner removed the medicine chest +from beneath his arm and started aft with it.</p> +<p class="pnext">"Hold on," said Stirling. "Just a minute, Sam!"</p> +<p class="pnext">The second mate turned.</p> +<p class="pnext">"Don't say anything more to Marr. Just give him the chest and meet me in +the waist. We'll have a smoke over this. That crew look as if they were +in earnest. They'll murder Eagan if he don't keep his eyes peeled."</p> +<p class="pnext">The mate bobbed his head and climbed the weather poop steps as Marr +appeared at the side of the wheelsman and stared over the canvas rail. +His eyes locked with Stirling's and were unable to hold the Ice Pilot's +accusing scrutiny. Already and before entering the Bering Sea, there was +a full crop of suspicion and cross-purpose sowed upon the <em class="italics">Pole Star</em>.</p> +<p class="pnext">Cushner moved to the rail as Marr disappeared in the gloom. The two +seamen lighted pipes and stared out over the Northern sea. A nip was in +the air, and the higher stars shone with frosty effulgence.</p> +<p class="pnext">"I've got to take the poop," said Cushner, folding close his pea-jacket +and glancing aft. "Whitehouse has gone into the galley. Marr won't stand +for a watch alone; he'll probably go below."</p> +<p class="pnext">Stirling shrugged his broad shoulders, pressed the bowl of his pipe, +then blew upon his thumb with thoughtful air.</p> +<p class="pnext">"I'm kinda summing things up, Sam. First the shanghai party; then the +seaman who wanted to come aboard. Then, Sam, there's the mystery of the +gamming by the Jap. All looks as if Marr has a fixed purpose. Looks like +a crooked compass point to steer by!"</p> +<p class="pnext">"Darn crooked!"</p> +<p class="pnext">Stirling wound his strong fingers about the second mate's arm. "I'm a +simple sailorman," he said, heavily. "I've sailed the Arctic and the +Bering and the North Pacific, man and boy, for thirty years. I have no +kith or kin. I've one star to guide. That's truth and right doing, Sam. +It's over there!"</p> +<p class="pnext">The Ice Pilot pointed along the leader stars of the Great Dipper and +notched his fingernail on the lodestar. "That's my guide," he said. "I +play square! I never made anything much by playing square, but I'm going +to steer my course by that light point. Marr won't mislead me a quarter +point."</p> +<p class="pnext">"Spoken fair!" declared Cushner. "You can call on me."</p> +<p class="pnext">The mate vanished in the gloom of the waist.</p> +<p class="pnext">Stirling dragged on his pipe, held it out, tapped it against the rail +and dumped the glowing coals overside with a sweeping motion. He paused +at the door to his galley cabin. The ship was plunging eastward with her +screw turning over at three-quarter speed. A soft halo capped the +funnel, like the tip of an ashless cigar, and the throbbing shook the +deck which was canted ever so slightly under the influence of the +northeast wind.</p> +<p class="pnext">"Headin' full and by," said Stirling. "We're making for Dutch Pass. I'll +be glad to see the ice. Somehow or other that Bering always seemed like +a man's sea."</p> +<p class="pnext">The days which followed the assault upon Eagan were hard ones for the +mixed crew of the <em class="italics">Pole Star</em>. The course of the whaler was into the +teeth of a wind which swung over the watches from point to point.</p> +<p class="pnext">The night between the spume-filled days revealed the stars overhead in +all their Northern glory—steel pointed they seemed. Within them and +over the Northern world a pale sheen glowed, and vanished and glowed +again. This was the reflection of the aurora upon the great north +barrier.</p> +<p class="pnext">Fur coats, skin boots, woollen socks with moss filling, mittens, and +watch caps were broken from the slop-chest and distributed to the crew.</p> +<p class="pnext">At high noon of the third day from the gamming by the Japanese sealer, +Stirling mounted to the crow's-nest, paused on its edge for a glance at +the deck, then dropped down into a snug, far-swinging berth from which +he had command of a hundred leagues of icy water.</p> +<p class="pnext">He reached and secured a pair of twelve-diameter glasses which had been +placed in a small chart rack, rested his elbows on the rim of the +crow's-nest, and swept the horizon with keen eyes.</p> +<p class="pnext">Mile by mile he searched for signs of whale slick or spout, but none +showed, then he turned and squinted ahead. Two needlelike peaks showed +well to the eastward. They were the highest points of the Aleutian +group, and marked the pass through to the Bering Sea.</p> +<p class="pnext">The day unrolled and lifted the archipelago up and into the Northern +sky. It seemed a white-robed mountain chain—with each spire and crag +forming the teeth of a giant saw. A rose light gleamed and reddened this +barrier as the sun rimmed the Western world. The light paled to a +flamingo and then to purple night as the ship drove on.</p> +<p class="pnext">It was midnight, with Whitehouse and Marr standing watch on the poop, +and Stirling and Cushner in the crow's-nest, when they reached the +overhanging shadow of the pass to the Bering. The ship steadied, swung, +then darted under the lee of a barren island; the strait with its score +of sharp turnings lay ahead.</p> +<p class="pnext">They passed the entrance to Dutch Harbor and Unalaska, raised the Rock +of the Bishop, sheered and drove with all steam through the narrow +outlet to the strait, entering at morning the waters of the Bering.</p> +<p class="pnext">Stirling breathed, for the first time sure of sea room. Raising his +glasses, he greeted the morning sun that slanted cold and bright along +the arctic waters which rose and fell in slow gliding. He lowered his +elbows and leaned far out over the crow's-nest edge, studying the small +patches of spring ice through which the ship's sharp prow cut like a +knife going through satin.</p> +<p class="pnext">Floes, in the form of old "grandfathers," were passed to starboard and +port. These had drifted with the current down through the Bering Strait +and were destined to melt in the warm waters of the Japan Current. Some +were small cakes, which had been formed that winter, and upon some of +these arctic birds and hair seals sported.</p> +<p class="pnext">A larger formation appeared ahead—part of the great North pack. Walrus +and polar bear dove overside as the whaler bore down upon this floe, +sheered, and entered a wide lane leading toward the north and east.</p> +<p class="pnext">"Take the ship!" called Marr from the poop. "It's your ship from now on, +Mr. Stirling."</p> +<p class="pnext">The Ice Pilot leaned over the edge of the crow's-nest. "Where are you +headin' for?" he asked with a stout laugh. "I don't know your compass +point. You didn't tell me."</p> +<p class="pnext">"Tie to the ice—the pack!" Marr had consulted the binnacle before +giving the order.</p> +<p class="pnext">Stirling chuckled like a big boy, turned in his narrow quarters, and +crooked his elbows with the glasses clasped in his hands. He studied the +currents and the drift of the lighter floes, sniffed the wind, then +swung his eyes from northeast to northwest.</p> +<p class="pnext">"Hard astarboard!" he called down to the quartermaster. "Put her hard +astarboard."</p> +<p class="pnext">"Hard astarboard," rolled up to the crow's-nest. "She's hard astarboard, +sir!" the wheelsman corrected.</p> +<p class="pnext">"Steady now. Steady! Over with it. Now steady. Port! Port! Hard aport! +Stead-y thar!"</p> +</div> +<div class="level-2 section" id="chapter-xto-the-last-day"> +<h2 class="level-2 pfirst section-title title"><a class="toc-backref pginternal" href="#id11">CHAPTER X—TO THE LAST DAY</a></h2> +<p class="pfirst">The <em class="italics">Pole Star</em> threaded the ice floes like a dancer on a polished +floor. She drove all that day north and east; she crashed through new +ice; she dodged the ancient floes and worked into the pack and through +the lanes under the masterful handling of the Ice Pilot, who sought no +rest. Coffee was brought to him by the galley boy. With this, and now +and then a drag from his pipe, he held down three watches until morning +broke and revealed to the east the higher line of the barrier beyond +which the ship could not go.</p> +<p class="pnext">"Pack ahead!" he announced, turning and staring shrewdly toward Marr who +stood with Cushner on the poop. "Yon's the North pack!"</p> +<p class="pnext">Marr lifted his face and returned the stare, then dropped his eyes under +the steady scrutiny and consulted Cushner.</p> +<p class="pnext">Stirling swung and rimmed the white line without glasses. He knew it of +old and knew that it was too early to find a lane leading north or east. +The ancient floes were still cemented together in an unyielding mass. +Upon them snow glistened, and pools of fresh water showed.</p> +<p class="pnext">"Tie to the pack!" called Marr. "Pick out a place to get water. Find a +hummock we can lash to. We'll lie here a while!"</p> +<p class="pnext">Into a tiny bight of open water, sheltered on three sides by ancient +ice, Stirling drove the <em class="italics">Pole Star</em>. Here she was lashed to a hummock by +a hawser which three of the crew carried overside and hitched in a +bowline of staunch hemp.</p> +<p class="pnext">The seamen and boat steerers swarmed over the whaler's rail and +stretched themselves by a swift run upon the ice. They caught a hose +thrown to them and carried its end to a pool of fresh water which had +been formed by melting snow.</p> +<p class="pnext">The pump clanked, the deck tanks were filled, and the first engineer, +assisted by the engine-room force, started work on a boiler which had +three leaking tubes in the tube sheet. The smallest of their number +crawled through the manhole and started clipping the scale, his tapping +sounding throughout the ship.</p> +<p class="pnext">Stirling descended from the crow's-nest, after a last glance toward the +northeast. There floe ice, packed and cemented together, extended to the +cold rim of the horizon, with no sign of lanes. The warm sun of the day +and its work was undone each night by the freezing cold.</p> +<p class="pnext">Cushner met Stirling at the rail, thrust out his broad hand, and smiled +proudly.</p> +<p class="pnext">"Fine ice work!" said the second mate. "I knew you could do it. Marr was +watching you all the time!"</p> +<p class="pnext">"Does he know anything about ice?"</p> +<p class="pnext">"Thundering little! He's a Baffin Bay man, so he says. There's a lot of +difference between the Bay and the Bering."</p> +<p class="pnext">"Considerable! It's a question of currents, here. The pack is farther +south than I ever saw it at this time of the year. That means an open +season when it breaks. What do you make of the weather?"</p> +<p class="pnext">The second mate glanced at the telltale on the cap of the mizzenmast. +"Good," he said. "Wind's swinging to th' south'ard."</p> +<p class="pnext">"That means a thaw, Sam."</p> +<p class="pnext">"The ice is soft on top. See the water holes?"</p> +<p class="pnext">Stirling nodded then turned and stared over the broken surface where the +crew was moving. "There's hair seals aplenty," he said. "Too bad, Sam, +them ain't fur seals. Maybe Marr would be satisfied to stay right here."</p> +<p class="pnext">Cushner widened his eyes. "Still thinking of a raid?" he inquired, +shrewdly.</p> +<p class="pnext">"That, and other things. Look to the south'ard. Did you ever see better +whaling ground? There's slick aplenty. My, how I'd like to lower for a +bowhead! They're all along this ice."</p> +<p class="pnext">"Nobody's raised any spouts, yet."</p> +<p class="pnext">"They're there! They can't get north. The barrier holds them. It was +just like this when we caught three big bowheads from the <em class="italics">Mary Foster</em>. +Lowered four boats and fastened to three whales. That was a great day!"</p> +<p class="pnext">The earnestness in Stirling's strong voice showed Cushner where his +heart lay, and he glanced at the low-swinging sun which was going down +on a long arc that marked the end of a Northern day.</p> +<p class="pnext">"Good-night," he said. "Go turn in and forget bowheads. I don't think +the old man is thinking about them. He's full of seals. He asked me a +thousand questions about them. Darn sealing, says I! Whaling's a man's +game! Many an old bowhead has fought back. Many a boat's been smashed by +a bull whale—up here or in the South Pacific."</p> +<p class="pnext">Stirling nodded his head in complete understanding, for he realized the +call which was in the big mate's blood. He watched him disappear into +the galley-house, then followed, after a glance about the deck. Many of +the crew were still out upon the ice.</p> +<p class="pnext">His cabin seemed strangely small and constricted, and he opened a +porthole which overlooked the deck and rail and sea to the south. He +examined his few possessions with wistful eyes—a bomb gun, brightly +polished, standing in one corner of the cabin, a sextant and ancient +chronometer resting upon a shelf, a Bowditch and well-thumbed almanac +which comprised his library. His clothes were but few and worn.</p> +<p class="pnext">He turned in, after undressing, snapping off his light and rolling over +on his right arm. He drowsed with the music of the grinding floes in his +ears, then heard a racking shiver which came from the north and east; +it was the great North pack breaking along its entire length.</p> +<p class="pnext">He awoke like a startled child. Cushner's pointed beard was thrust +through the open porthole, and the second mate's wide-set eyes were +intent and hard.</p> +<p class="pnext">"Climb out of your bunk!" he said. "Get in your boots and join me on the +ice. I'll be right by the hummock where the shore line is."</p> +<p class="pnext">Stirling hastily dressed and wrapped a great sea coat, with shell +buttons, about his form. He stepped out on the dark deck with firm +stride, glancing intuitively aft as he threw one leg over the port rail, +after rounding the deck house.</p> +<p class="pnext">Nothing showed on the poop. A faint light, however, struck upward and +brought out the lacery of the after standing rigging. This light +vanished suddenly, then a companion hatch slammed.</p> +<p class="pnext">Stirling dropped to the ice and crawled over its surface till he reached +a towering hummock. Behind this Cushner was crouching, and the big mate +laid a finger across his whiskered lips.</p> +<p class="pnext">Stirling knelt upon the snow and listened. He heard the lapping of the +waves as they ran up the shelving ice, with now and then a breaker which +shot a white plume starward. The broken fragments of the southern floes +ground together, and the night was filled with a thousand sounds which +blended into a roar.</p> +<p class="pnext">Then, and suddenly, there rose from the poop of the whaler a shaft of +yellow light. A voice was raised, and the notes of a song drifted +through the open portholes of the after cabin. Marr was singing:</p> +<blockquote><div> +<div class="line-block"> +<div class="line"> +"English there be and Portigee,</div> +<div class="line-block"> +<div class="line"> +Who hang on the Brown Bear's flank,</div> +</div> +<div class="line"> +And some be Scot, but the worst of the lot—</div> +<div class="line-block"> +<div class="line"> +The boldest thieves be Yank!"</div> +</div> +</div> +</div></blockquote> +<p class="pfirst">Cushner gripped Stirling's arm. "That's ain't all," he said with a deep +warning. "Who is standing on the poop? Who's that in the shelter of the +canvas, aft—right by the jack staff?"</p> +<p class="pnext">Stirling peered out from behind the hummock, grasped the hawser, and +drew himself forward. He pulled down his cap and opened wide his +splendid eyes. Cushner was right. There was a figure on the poop, and +this figure moved and came slowly across the planks to the rail which +overlooked the waist of the whaler.</p> +<p class="pnext">Glasses clinked in the cabin. Whitehouse joined his cockney accents to a +song:</p> +<blockquote><div> +<div class="line-block"> +<div class="line"> +"Oh, I'm th' son of a gentleman,</div> +<div class="line"> +For I takes m' whisky clear—</div> +<div class="line-block"> +<div class="line"> +I takes m' whisky clear——"</div> +</div> +</div> +</div></blockquote> +<p class="pfirst">The figure on the poop leaned over the rail. Stirling strained his ears; +a sob racked the Arctic air, and the figure on the quarter-deck +straightened with a convulsive shudder. Whitehouse's voice broke out +afresh, and the song was drunken and masterful.</p> +<p class="pnext">The form above the bold singer turned away from the rail of the ship +and glided slowly aft. A yellow light shot upward as a companion was +slowly opened, then this light was blotted out degree by degree; the +companion hatch clicked shut.</p> +<p class="pnext">Minutes passed. Neither man on the ice moved; both were deep in thought. +The two facts were hard to gather to the brain: Marr and Whitehouse were +in the cabin, drinking; another Marr had stood upon the quarter-deck. It +was the little captain—line for line. In one thing only did it +differ—the racking sob at the drunken levity below was from a woman's +throat. It was a protest which she believed fell upon the Northern +silences.</p> +<p class="pnext">Stirling sprang to his feet with an icy glint in his blue eyes.</p> +<p class="pnext">"We'll fathom that mystery," he told Cushner. "We'll fathom it if it +takes to the last day of the voyage!"</p> +</div> +<div class="level-2 section" id="chapter-xibeneath-the-surface"> +<h2 class="level-2 pfirst section-title title"><a class="toc-backref pginternal" href="#id12">CHAPTER XI—BENEATH THE SURFACE</a></h2> +<p class="pfirst">The sun came up on a long slant, to swing its southern arc. Glancing +from ice floe to ice floe, it seemed a cold bronze disk placed in motion +by some Norseman of the Arctic wilds.</p> +<p class="pnext">Stirling, haggard and with hot, fevered eyes, sat at the steerage table +watching the light striking across a red-checked table cover and +bringing out the rude details of the cabin.</p> +<p class="pnext">He had not slept since seeing that strange figure on the quarter-deck of +the whaler. He had sat erect throughout the morning watch, laying facts +against facts, which seemed to dull and stupefy his sober senses.</p> +<p class="pnext">At no time in his life had he believed in the supernatural. He did not +share the beliefs, common to most seamen, that the sea held unfathomable +mysteries. He had sniffed often at the tales told by old salts. Times +without number he had pointed out that natural causes rule the +happenings of this world. St. Elmo fire; the creaking of blocks in a +calm; the dust on a dustless sea; the tapping that a bolt might make in +a hollow spar—these were all phenomena which could be explained by +science or good common sense.</p> +<p class="pnext">The spectre on the poop of the <em class="italics">Pole Star</em> was as unexplainable as life +itself. It bore the shape and form of Marr; it was not Marr, for the +captain had been drinking and singing in the cabin. Stirling put trust +in the sound of the human voice. It was one thing which could not easily +be changed or disguised.</p> +<p class="pnext">He rose, at six bells, with a slow shrug of his broad shoulders. He +stood a moment with his hands gripping the racks, his face deeply lined +with the ravages of a sleepless night. He held out his palm and stared +at it; his fingers trembled uncontrollably. They always had been steady.</p> +<p class="pnext">He made his way to the deck and stood by the rail which was nearest the +great North pack. The cook, yawning, was making fire in the galley +stove. A lone "anchor watch" pacing back and forth at the break of the +forecastle head turned and stared at Stirling.</p> +<p class="pnext">The air was cold with a snap of frost. A gale came from the south and +west with a puff that ground the loose floes together. North, to the +slaty horizon, stretched the broken surface of the ice field. It had a +sound of its own—a grind and a creaking like a soul in agony.</p> +<p class="pnext">Stirling rested his hands on the rail and stared downward. The whaler +surged against the shelving ice, steadied, then surged back again. Seals +peered curiously from the depths of the Bering. Some scrambled from the +floes and plumped into the icy water. Walruses were upon the pack. They +had broken through the thin ice formed overnight, and their whiskers and +tusks were white with hoar frost.</p> +<p class="pnext">Stirling stared aloft, then shuddered slightly and drew his great coat +close about him. The ratlines and standing rigging, the downhauls and +halyards formed a ghostly tapestry, like the gossamer web of some forest +glade.</p> +<p class="pnext">He raised his hands, breathed upon them to secure circulation, slowly +climbed the rail, and reached for the shrouds, and thrusting his feet +through the chains he mounted until he reached the Jacob's ladder. Going +over this he leaned far outboard, glanced down at the deck, then +finished the climb to the crow's-nest which was coated with frost.</p> +<p class="pnext">Some whim of the current had cleared the sea to the south and east. It +was as if a broom had swept through the pile of a purple carpet. The +floes which had broken from the main pack had been whisked southward to +melt in the warm waters of the north Pacific. Occasionally, however, a +hoary old "grandpa" went drifting by with its load of walrus and hair +seals, while over them hovered gulls and other birds.</p> +<p class="pnext">Stirling narrowed his eyes and searched long and carefully for some sign +of another whaler. The season was an early one. Bowheads were to be +expected in such waters; the whale slick which showed marked their +feeding ground. He saw no sign of sail or smoke. A slight haze to the +southward marked the smoky sea where the chilled waters of the Bering +met the first warm current which seeped through the passes of the +Aleutian Group.</p> +<p class="pnext">Climbing from the crow's-nest, Stirling swung out over the ladder and +smiled slightly as he saw a patient fisherman, in the shaggy form of a +polar bear, all too intent upon the circular opening of a seal's hole +through the ice.</p> +<p class="pnext">A whiff of galley smoke and the rattle of falling ice from the shrouds +disturbed the fisherman. He raised his yellow snout, blinked his tiny +eyes, and was off with a lumbersome trot toward the shelter of higher +hummocks in the east.</p> +<p class="pnext">Cushner appeared like a giant who had slept without turning over. He +lifted his long arms, stretched, pointed his icicle-sharp beard aloft, +and held his mouth open as he stared at Stirling swinging down the +shrouds.</p> +<p class="pnext">"By the stars, old man!" he exclaimed. "You're an early bird. Ain't more +than seven bells, if it's that. Raised any bowheads yet?"</p> +<p class="pnext">Stirling sprang from the rail to the deck and rubbed his frosted hands. +He stepped to Cushner's side and clapped him on the back. "Not yet!" he +said. "No whales, but there's an ocean of fine slick. It's a whaling day +if ever there was one."</p> +<p class="pnext">"Waal," yawned Cushner. "Waal, I'll call the watches and get ready. We +might as well drop away from the pack."</p> +<p class="pnext">Without consulting Marr, the second mate gave the order to bring in the +hawser and hoist easy canvas on the fore and main. The <em class="italics">Pole Star</em> +sheered and drifted toward the southward. Stirling emerged from the +galley house, wiped his mouth with the back of his hand, felt the glow +of the strong coffee he had drunk, then crossed the deck and mounted +again to the crow's-nest where he took position to observe any signs of +whales or white water.</p> +<p class="pnext">The whaler was hove to, with her yards braced, and steam pluming from +the pipe after the raking funnel; the boats were swung outboard; the +gear was gone over and the water kegs filled.</p> +<p class="pnext">Marr appeared at one bell. He glanced toward the distant pack, frowned +slightly, then leaned over the rail of the quarter-deck. "Who gave the +order to drop down here?" he asked Cushner.</p> +<p class="pnext">The second mate stood erect in the starboard-waist boat. "I did," he +said, slowly. "I thought, seeing as how there was whale slick, that we +better get in position for lowering. We could only lower three boats +where we were."</p> +<p class="pnext">Marr motioned for Whitehouse, who sprang up the weather poop steps, and +the two men went aft behind the canvas screen. Cushner glanced toward +Stirling in the crow's-nest, and Stirling nodded. He seemed to say +without words that he would stick by the second mate's statement.</p> +<p class="pnext">Whitehouse appeared and glanced upward. "What d'ye make out?" he asked, +pointing over the ship's rail. "'Ow's the sea to lee'ard?"</p> +<p class="pnext">"Plenty of signs," said Stirling. "There's a sail far down toward that +big floe. Looks like the first of the Frisco fleet. She's headin' for +the ice. Likely there'll be more. Old 'Hank' Peterson and his <em class="italics">Beluga</em> +always fasten around about here. That looks like the <em class="italics">Beluga's</em> +fore-topsail. It's dirty enough!"</p> +<p class="pnext">The <em class="italics">Beluga</em>, so it proved, tacked and went about with its long row of +white boats showing clear and distinct in the Northern sunlight. +Peterson was cruising over known ground. He drove the ship away from the +pack and vanished through the smoke of the seas with the patches of his +ancient sails allowing the last sight of him.</p> +<p class="pnext">Another ship climbed up over the rim of the world. Smoke showed in a +long slaty line, and soon was revealed the fine sheer and trim rig of a +revenue cutter. Stirling lowered his glasses with a dry smile, and +stared toward the whaler's poop. Marr stood there with feet braced and a +telescope clapped to his eye.</p> +<p class="pnext">The little skipper muttered vehemently as he wheeled swiftly and strode +to the rail. "What ship's that?" he called up to Stirling.</p> +<p class="pnext">"The United States revenue cutter <em class="italics">Bear</em>, Mr. Marr!"</p> +<p class="pnext">The captain frowned, turned, and looked over the ice-dotted waters. +"Which way is she heading now?" he asked.</p> +<p class="pnext">"Same course. She's sizing us up. Likely she'll skirt the pack, back and +forth, until she finds a lane to the east. She always does."</p> +<p class="pnext">"How many cutters come North?"</p> +<p class="pnext">"Usually three——the <em class="italics">Bear</em> and the <em class="italics">Wolverene</em> and the <em class="italics">Northern +Star</em>."</p> +<p class="pnext">Stirling's voice contained a shaded warning, as he leaned over the edge +of the crow's-nest and watched Marr intently. The little captain was +plainly disturbed. He coiled and uncoiled his well-manicured fingers, +stroked his smooth chin, then went aft with a quick stride and +disappeared through the cabin companion.</p> +<p class="pnext">Cushner climbed up the fore shrouds and dropped alongside Stirling. +Pinching the Ice Pilot's arm, he chuckled as he twirled the knob of the +glasses and extended his arm outward.</p> +<p class="pnext">"She's th' <em class="italics">Bear</em>, all right," he said after a careful glance. "She's +giving us a good lookin' over. We're new to her. I reckon th' whaleboats +will satisfy her. There's nothin' to excite suspicion."</p> +<p class="pnext">The <em class="italics">Bear</em> slowly vanished into the mist, and a line of dark smoke +marked her going.</p> +<p class="pnext">Cushner laid down the glasses and exclaimed through his beard: "They +ought to know you, old man!"</p> +<p class="pnext">"Not in this rig," Stirling said. "Last time I saw the <em class="italics">Bear</em>, I was +pilot of the <em class="italics">Mary Foster</em>. They gammed us the other side of St. +Lawrence Island. They were looking for poachers. Somebody had raided +the northeast point of St. Paul's, and three hundred bachelor seals were +missing."</p> +<p class="pnext">"Fair game, I say, when you do it out beyond the three-mile limit. It's +just the same as highway when it's done on the rookeries."</p> +<p class="pnext">"That's the way I think. Marr had better take warning. It would be a +short shift to McNeal's Island and a long sentence if he tried +anything."</p> +<p class="pnext">Cushner climbed out of the crow's-nest and lowered himself to the deck. +Standing by the rail he watched the crew who were alert to raise a +spout. Whitehouse, at a suggestion from Marr, had offered ten plugs of +tobacco and two square faces of trade gin for the first blow reported.</p> +<p class="pnext">The morning passed without any sign of whales. At two bells in the +afternoon watch a second whaler wallowed by and offered the signal that +she had already fastened and cut in. A dark slab of muck tuck, or +blubber, was dangling from her stumpy jib boom.</p> +<p class="pnext">Stirling knew the ship as he knew the palm of his strong hand. She was +the <em class="italics">Norwhale</em> out of Frisco. He called down her name and pointed out +her aged captain to the crew of the <em class="italics">Pole Star</em>.</p> +<p class="pnext">"The luckiest man in the North!" Stirling exclaimed. "Already fastened +and lookin' for more. Keep your eyes peeled to lee'ard, boys. There's an +ocean of slick and plenty of signs."</p> +<p class="pnext">The sun was rolling into the west when a stir passed through the <em class="italics">Pole +Star</em>. A voice forward had half shouted, then died to a whisper. One +lookout pointed far down to the south and east; Stirling swung his +glasses and studied the wide surface of the Bering. He saw a spout which +proved to be waves dashed from the weather side of a floe, and sea gulls +hovering over an oily patch. He tested the direction of the wind by +holding his finger aloft, and stared at the telltale which draped from +the mizzen top.</p> +<p class="pnext">Clapping the glasses to his eyes, he swung about in a slow circle. Due +south, he steadied and grew rigid. He saw the low bore of water which +marked the presence of some animal beneath the surface. He closed his +lips in a hard, firm line; his face cleared; his arms grew rigid as bars +of steel. He waited with every muscle tense. Then, and suddenly, he +lowered the glasses, leaned far out over the edge of the crow's-nest, +and called loudly: "A blow! A blow! There she blows!"</p> +</div> +<div class="level-2 section" id="chapter-xiithe-manner-of-man"> +<h2 class="level-2 pfirst section-title title"><a class="toc-backref pginternal" href="#id13">CHAPTER XII—THE MANNER OF MAN</a></h2> +<p class="pfirst">The ship shook with the running of many men. The mate sprang to the +shrouds and shaded his eyes.</p> +<p class="pnext">"Where away?" called up Cushner.</p> +<p class="pnext">"Direct to the south'ard! Right over that floe! There she blows again. +There she blows!"</p> +<p class="pnext">For a second time a bore of white water showed. This was followed by a +plume of soft spray which spurted up into the frosty air and vanished to +leeward. The whale was rising for breath.</p> +<p class="pnext">"All 'ands to the boats!" This order was given by Whitehouse who stood +at the top of the lee poop steps.</p> +<p class="pnext">There sounded a rush along the deck, and a snarl of excited men tumbled +over each other in their haste to reach the boats. It was for all the +world like being submarined in war time.</p> +<p class="pnext">Stirling scowled down on the untrained crew, then glanced toward the +little skipper. He feared that the noise would gally the quarry; a whale +has remarkable hearing in certain circumstances. The Ice Pilot had known +of failure to fasten with a harpoon on account of the striking of a +paddle against the inner skin of a boat.</p> +<p class="pnext">He called a warning and pointed toward the sea where last a spout had +shown. The crew heeded this call, and stood silent by the falls of each +boat.</p> +<p class="pnext">"Lower away!" called out Whitehouse.</p> +<p class="pnext">The boats splashed into the sea, the falls were loosened from their +eyebolts in bow and stern, and long oars were thrust out as the crews +swarmed downward.</p> +<p class="pnext">Led by the second mate's boat, the tiny fleet swung like a covey of +pigeons and ran before the wind with their single sails billowed out +over the lee rails and their centerboards raised.</p> +<p class="pnext">Skipping from sea to sea, as light as spindrift, they assumed a fanlike +formation and closed about the position where the whale had been seen.</p> +<p class="pnext">The leading boat, guided by Cushner, gained slightly and drew away, the +big mate, with his white beard, standing erect in the stern. His hand +was closed over the tiller, his eyes glued on a spot to leeward.</p> +<p class="pnext">Stirling and Marr, who had remained as ship keepers, with the cook and +engineers, watched the arena like spectators at a battle. The Ice Pilot +had hastened to many bowheads and realized that Cushner had taken the +proper direction and would most likely intercept the whale upon its next +appearance.</p> +<p class="pnext">A short wait followed, and Stirling fastened a small red flag to a +signal halyard which could be raised from the crow's-nest. This was in +the event that the whale was sighted from the ship. Two jerks would be +the signal that the fleet should go to leeward; one jerk, into the wind.</p> +<p class="pnext">Across the whale slick the mate's boat darted, then came up and held its +position with sail flapping. Cushner drove farther to the south where +he, too, brought his boat in the wind and waited.</p> +<p class="pnext">Marr lowered his glass and stared up at the Ice Pilot. "It's time, isn't +it?" the captain asked.</p> +<p class="pnext">"Almost," replied Stirling. "That old bull's been down eighteen +minutes."</p> +<p class="pnext">The Ice Pilot replaced his watch and waited like a hunter in a jungle +tree. His were the highest eyes on those waters. He swept them across +the sea and somewhat ahead of Cushner's boat, then he stiffened and +jerked up his flag. He held it at the masthead, then jerked again. The +whale had showed white water not a cable's length from the second mate's +boat.</p> +<p class="pnext">"He's up!" called Stirling in his excitement. "Sam's right there!"</p> +<p class="pnext">Cushner caught the signal from above the crow's-nest of the <em class="italics">Pole Star</em>. +He swung his body and allowed the boat to run before the wind, peering +under the bulging sail with its lifted boom. He pointed and pressed the +tiller handle.</p> +<p class="pnext">The harpooner of Cushner's boat was a giant Kanaka. He was whale wise, +and had once been known to fasten to a whale over the sail of another +boat. Stirling saw him reach downward, lift a heavy harpoon, with its +bomb-gun attachment, and poise rigidly in the bow of the whaleboat. His +bronzed arm was raised inch by inch. The small boat drove on and into +the smothering plume of vapour which rose out of the sea and slick as +the whale emerged and exhaled its breath.</p> +<p class="pnext">Cushner's boat drove onward. The Kanaka straightened, drew back his arm, +and then hurled the heavy harpoon down and into the waves as the +whaleboat mounted the first of the bore set up by the passage of the +monster.</p> +<p class="pnext">The mast of the boat came down on the run, oars were thrust outboard, +Cushner unshipped the tiller and hurried forward. The Kanaka passed him, +stooped, and lifted up a long steering oar which he placed in the +oarlock aft.</p> +<p class="pnext">Stirling watched the second mate as he poised in the bow with a brass +bomb gun under his arm and his eyes glued upon the coil of hemp which +was floating on the surface of the sea. The whale had been struck, and +it was sulking just below the boat, but had not yet sounded.</p> +<p class="pnext">Seconds passed, while the watchers on the ship remained mute with +expectancy. Then, and suddenly, the white boat swung, almost upsetting +Cushner, and started into the wind with the speed of a swift launch. The +whale had come to life, had recovered from the stunning blow of the +harpoon and the bomb, and was "carrying the mail" for the great North +pack, with the boat dragging after it.</p> +<p class="pnext">Cushner motioned aft with the flat of his right hand, dashed the spray +from his eyes, stooped, and felt of the whale line where it disappeared +over the bow. He then straightened and motioned aft for a second time.</p> +<p class="pnext">Stirling interpreted the signal. It was for the sheet tender to throw +water into the tubs. Already smoke was rising from the round wooden butt +in the bow about which the line was coiled.</p> +<p class="pnext">The sheet tender, a Frisco dock rat, scooped a dipper overside, stumbled +forward, and dashed sea water into the rapidly uncoiling hemp. He +slipped as the boat swung over a wave, and the dipper flew from his +hand, dropping into the larger of the two tubs.</p> +<p class="pnext">There followed a leaping snarl of inch rope. A slender python seemed to +reach and coil about Cushner in the bow, who flung up his arms and +dropped the bomb gun. A noose fastened about his waist, and he was drawn +forward and downward as the whale surged onward. Fighting with all his +giant strength, he went over and then into the depth of the sea.</p> +<p class="pnext">"Heavens!" shouted Marr. "Did you see that, Stirling?"</p> +<p class="pnext">The Ice Pilot was over the edge of the crow's-nest and down the rigging +within the space of five seconds. He struck the deck and dashed aft. +"He's done for!" he shouted. "Get up steam and hurry. There's only one +chance."</p> +<p class="pnext">Marr stared at the Ice Pilot. "Who's giving orders here?" he asked, +cuttingly. "Let the fool take care of himself. He picked out that sheet +tender."</p> +<p class="pnext">Stirling gulped, then clenched his fists and held them out under the +skipper's chin. He drew them back inch by inch. His emotion was a +compelling thing. He could crush the little skipper with one blow, but +held himself in hand and turned, his eyes filled with the fire of +battle.</p> +<p class="pnext">"Follow me!" he shouted to two of the engineers who stood in the waist. +"Help lower the dinghy. The whale's coming to windward. I can get it!"</p> +<p class="pnext">The tiny boat was lowered in clumsy fashion. Stirling shoved off and sat +down to the oars. Over his shoulder he saw the sneering figure of the +little skipper standing by the taffrail, but only bent his back and dug +the oars deeper into the sea. He brought the boat directly into the +pathway of the onrushing whale which had risen and was showing a bent +harpoon in its foam-coiled hump.</p> +<p class="pnext">Dropping the oars, Stirling sprang to the bow of the boat and lifted a +bomb gun from its position on the starboard side. He cocked this, and +waited, peering into the sea. He straightened, took aim, and fired a +tonite bomb full into the mass which was rushing in his direction.</p> +<p class="pnext">The acrid smoke from the gun drifted to leeward, and the low report of +the bomb's explosion shook the sea. Particles of flesh flew upward, the +whale milled and rose, then splashed down, with its giant flukes beating +the surface of the water in a death flurry. The small boat was drawn +into the vortex and as both engineers called a warning, Stirling opened +a pouch under a seat, drew out another bomb and cartridge, fitted them +to the breech of the gun, then waited grimly, tensely. He no longer +resembled the placid pilot who had come aboard the whaler at Frisco.</p> +<p class="pnext">The other boats of the fleet drove into the wind with their centerboards +lowered and their sheets close drawn, waiting until the whale's efforts +died, stroke by stroke. They took Stirling's signal to haul in on the +line which was still fastened to Cushner's boat. Foot by foot it was +drawn upward and coiled in the tubs. The whale was dead upon the bottom +of the sea.</p> +<p class="pnext">Stirling waited until the ship bore down upon the fleet and thrust her +sharp prow over the spot where the quarry had sunk. He gave the order to +rig the line over a yardarm and to attach it to a foreward winch. Steam +was turned on and the stout hemp held, although it was drawn to pencil +thinness. The carcass of the whale was sucked from the mud and silt and +lifted surfaceward. Foot by foot—fathom by fathom—the line was +scanned. There sounded a low cry, and a boat steerer pointed downward. +Stirling and the engineers leaned over the rail of the dinghy.</p> +<p class="pnext">They saw why the boat steerer had called their attention, and they +blanched—strong men that they were. Then they stood erect and removed +their caps.</p> +<p class="pnext">Cushner's body, looped in a bight of the whale line, dangled before +their eyes, all life throttled out by the whale's mad strength.</p> +<p class="pnext">One thing showed the manner of man the second mate had been. He had +drawn a long knife from a sheath on his belt and held this gripped +firmly in his left hand. But it had not been used. The rope was +unhacked. Cushner had preferred to go to his death, rather than sever +the hemp and allow the whale to escape.</p> +</div> +<div class="level-2 section" id="chapter-xiiiinto-the-ice"> +<h2 class="level-2 pfirst section-title title"><a class="toc-backref pginternal" href="#id14">CHAPTER XIII—INTO THE ICE</a></h2> +<p class="pfirst">They buried the second mate in the conventional sea manner, Marr reading +the simple service from the Bible.</p> +<p class="pnext">Stirling saw the sack-sewn body plunge into the icy waters of the Bering +Sea, and replaced his cap when the last ripples had died. He turned and +glanced upward at Marr, watching the skipper fold the Book and look over +the rail. The whale lay alongside with only a slight hump to mark its +bulk, and in the centre of this hump a harpoon had been thrust. The +stout iron, of Swedish construction, was bent and twisted, and to it was +fastened a bight of inch hemp which had held throughout the struggle.</p> +<p class="pnext">Purple night was falling when Stirling had the whale's body in a +position for cutting in. More irons had been driven home, lines were +brought aboard and fastened to cleats, a strong hawser was passed about +the giant flukes.</p> +<p class="pnext">Cutting in a whale to Stirling was like peeling an apple. It had been +one of the greatest joys the seas had granted to him. It was the +culmination of months of preparation and searching. The value of a head +of bone was well up in the thousands, and Stirling estimated the length +of the whale to be all of seventy feet. The bone, therefore, being in +proportion, he expected slabs from the upper jaw to reach fifteen feet.</p> +<p class="pnext">The waist of the ship was cleared of riffraff and dunnage; a strong +whale tackle was rigged between fore and mainmast, one line of this +tackle being wound about the foreward winch. The other end was carried +down the cutting-in stage and hitched to a slice of blubber which had +been peeled from the whale's neck. This slice of blubber was called the +blanket piece.</p> +<p class="pnext">Kanakas climbed then over the slippery body and started work with +blubber spades and axes. They severed the strip, as the winch was +started, the whale rolled over and exposed an open cut which banded its +neck. Into this the crew slashed until the backbone was reached. They +then climbed aboard, after rigging a second line through a purchase in +the upper jaw.</p> +<p class="pnext">"Hoist away!" ordered Stirling. A watch tackle creaked, the line +tightened, and the upper jaw of the monster came aboard and was swung +over a spot in the waist, lowering to position when the tackle was +slacked. The carcass, useless now, was cast adrift by cutting the lines. +It drifted to leeward where it was soon surrounded by polar bears and +screeching sea gulls.</p> +<p class="pnext">Marr appeared at the quarter-deck rail and sent down a huge jug of +whisky, which the crew shared with boisterous shouts. The skipper +watched them, then shrugged his slight shoulders, glanced at the ice to +the northward, and disappeared as Stirling gave the order to clear decks +and cut the bone from the upper jaw.</p> +<p class="pnext">This baleen, as it was called, had to be split from a white gristle by +blubber spades and knives. The bone ran from sixteen feet in length down +to little whiskers, and its value was all of five dollars a pound.</p> +<p class="pnext">The last of the slabs was taken below to be stored in the forehold, and +the great jaw, after the cook had removed a barrel of muck tuck, was +hoisted overboard. This sank to the bottom of the Bering. The decks were +then swabbed and squeegeed, and the watch on duty finished cleaning up. +It was midnight before Stirling turned toward Whitehouse and reported +that all was clear.</p> +<p class="pnext">The cockney mate climbed from the dark poop, took a turn about the ship, +ran his fingers over the planks and pinrails, and peered down the +forehold.</p> +<p class="pnext">Then he came to Stirling and asked: "'Ow much do you think that 'ead of +bone will weigh?"</p> +<p class="pnext">"All of twenty-two hundred pounds. It's as big as I ever cut in."</p> +<p class="pnext">Whitehouse glanced aft. "The old man wasn't figurin' on that," he said, +reflectively. "I think it was out of 'is calculations. 'E's just +confided in me—not a watch below—that 'e is up North for trade stuff. +Also, 'e said there's a firm of Dundee & Grimsby owners interested in +the voyage. I thought all along 'e owned the ship."</p> +<p class="pnext">Stirling studied the face of the mate in an endeavour to ascertain if he +were speaking the truth. Whitehouse was far from stable in his +statements.</p> +<p class="pnext">"That's news," said Stirling. "I thought you, or somebody else, told me +he was the sole owner."</p> +<p class="pnext">"Maybe Cushner told you that."</p> +<p class="pnext">"Maybe! It settles a point or two I was trying to fathom."</p> +<p class="pnext">Stirling glanced at the poop, and in fancy he thought a figure appeared +there. He stepped to one side of the galley house and stared aft. A +shadow moved against the canvas screen, a light shot skyward, then was +blotted out as the companion closed.</p> +<p class="pnext">"Marr?" he asked, striding over to Whitehouse.</p> +<p class="pnext">The mate grinned and reached in his pocket for a plug of tobacco. +"Sure," he said. "W'o else could hit be? The old man is very irregular +in 'is 'abits. Never saw any one like 'im. You never know where 'e is. +All the time walking around."</p> +<p class="pnext">Stirling crammed his hands into his pockets and turned away from the +mate, but he paused at the door leading into the alleyway and his cabin.</p> +<p class="pnext">Whitehouse, believing Stirling had passed inside, jerked his elbows, +buttoned up his coat with care, smoothed down his hair, and otherwise +spruced himself up. Then he started aft and mounted the poop steps, his +whistle merging into a low song. Stirling heard it and wondered:</p> +<blockquote><div> +<div class="line-block"> +<div class="line"> +"England, oh, my England!</div> +<div class="line-block"> +<div class="line"> +Gone for many a day;</div> +</div> +<div class="line"> +I never knew I loved you</div> +<div class="line-block"> +<div class="line"> +Until I sailed away."</div> +</div> +</div> +</div></blockquote> +<p class="pfirst">The Ice Pilot raised his brows and closed his mouth in a firm line. The +mate had revealed another side of his character. He had come down into +the waist of the ship in order to make an inspection, and was returning +like a man who expected to meet with a cheerful welcome. Perhaps, +decided Stirling, he had gone aft and below in order to create an +impression. The impression could hardly be made upon Marr. That little +skipper was no more interested in whaling than in cob fishing. He had +treated the entire chase of the day as a diversion which would answer +until the ice opened and allowed the <em class="italics">Pole Star</em> to drive northward +toward some coast where bigger game was waiting.</p> +<p class="pnext">The morning dawned, warm, gray, and cloud-shrouded. An east wind swung +over the North pack and loosened the lighter floes. They drifted toward +the south, as the seals gave the warning of the first breaking up of the +ice, and loud reports were heard to windward.</p> +<p class="pnext">Stirling rolled from his bunk and sniffed the air, pressed his face to a +porthole, then rapidly dressed. Taking coffee from the galley boy, he +hurried to the deck and stared about him. The ship was hove to in a +position that commanded a view of the pack ice and the sea to the south +and west.</p> +<p class="pnext">Climbing hand over hand, Stirling reached the Jacob's ladder, and then +the crow's-nest. He settled down and clapped the glasses to his eyes.</p> +<p class="pnext">A voice rose from the quarter-deck, and increased in volume as Stirling +still stared to leeward.</p> +<p class="pnext">"Aloft, there!" Marr shouted, angrily. "Hey, you aloft!"</p> +<p class="pnext">Stirling leisurely removed the glasses from his eyes and glanced +downward. He said nothing.</p> +<p class="pnext">"How's the ice?" asked the skipper, jerking his thumb toward the north +and east. "What do you make of it?"</p> +<p class="pnext">Stirling turned and lifted the glasses. "She's breaking," he called. "I +see a few lanes to the east. This wind will clear things in a day or +two. We can go then!"</p> +<p class="pnext">Marr paced the deck, bringing up against the rail on the ice side of the +ship. "We'll go now!" he shouted. "Right now, if there's any possible +route open. I want to be at Indian Point within the week. Can you do +it?"</p> +<p class="pnext">"I can!" said Stirling. "I'm——"</p> +<p class="pnext">"A blow!" called a foremast hand from the forepeak. "A blow! There she +blows!"</p> +<p class="pnext">Stirling turned and darted his eyes out over the sea to leeward. He +squinted slightly and saw the white vapour of a huge whale's spout. He +closed his lips and shaded his brow. Another blow showed to windward of +the first. A school of bowheads was approaching an open lane to the +north and the Arctic.</p> +<p class="pnext">"Stand by the boats!" shouted Stirling, eagerly. "Call both watches and +stand by!"</p> +<p class="pnext">Marr stiffened in his position close by the rail, turned, and glided +forward until he stood at the weather steps which led to the waist of +the ship. He darted a savage glance out over the sea then fastened his +eyes upon Stirling. "Countermand that order!" he shouted.</p> +<p class="pnext">Stirling stared over the edge of the crow's-nest. "What's that?" he +asked. "Don't you know there's whales to leeward? They're making for the +ice. There's a——"</p> +<p class="pnext">"I don't give a darn if there's a million whales. I told you what to do. +Do it! I'm captain of this ship!"</p> +<p class="pnext">"A blow!" repeated the foremast hand.</p> +<p class="pnext">Marr reached and snatched up a brass belaying pin from the pinrail. He +leaned forward after grasping the step rail with his left hand, and +brandished the weapon out over the waist of the ship in the direction of +the cry. "'Vast that!" he snarled. "'Vast with you! There's no need of +yelling your lungs out! This ship is going into the ice. D'ye get me?"</p> +</div> +<div class="level-2 section" id="chapter-xiva-whispered-warning"> +<h2 class="level-2 pfirst section-title title"><a class="toc-backref pginternal" href="#id15">CHAPTER XIV—A WHISPERED WARNING</a></h2> +<p class="pfirst">Stirling climbed over the edge of the crow's-nest and reached for a +line. He dropped to the deck like a plummet, strode aft and mounted the +poop, where Marr stood with the pin in his hand.</p> +<p class="pnext">The hastily dressed crew had rushed aft and were gathered in the waist +as Stirling thrust his jaw forward and locked glances with the little +skipper. An explosion was brooding; the foremast hand, who had whaled +for ten years, kept repeating, "A blow! A blow!"</p> +<p class="pnext">"What d'ye mean?" snapped Marr. "What d'ye mean by coming up here +without orders?"</p> +<p class="pnext">Stirling's eyes flashed dangerously, the brown in them changing to hazel +and red. His fists clenched into great balls of hate; he was seeing +fire.</p> +<p class="pnext">"What do I mean?" he asked. "Why, what do <em class="italics">you</em> mean? What's the answer +to letting that school of whales escape? I never saw more in these +waters."</p> +<p class="pnext">Marr toyed with the belaying pin, lifted it, and swung his arm. "I don't +intend to argue the case with you!" he declared. "I want my orders +obeyed! I am in command of this ship. I order you to make for the ice. +I command you to take me to Indian Point on the Siberian coast."</p> +<p class="pnext">Stirling reached and clutched the belaying pin, wrenching it from Marr's +hand with a half effort. Replacing it in the pinrail, he turned and +stared at the crew. The little skipper had reached backward and clapped +his hand on a hip pocket. Thinking better of this action, he hesitated.</p> +<p class="pnext">"Men," said Stirling, "you're under the skipper's orders, as you know. I +want you to take notice that he has forbidden you to lower for whales. +You, Eagan, step up here!"</p> +<p class="pnext">The seaman mounted the poop steps. "Eagan," said Stirling, laying his +hand on the sailor's shoulder, "you are my witness that I've done all I +could to earn a fair lay for the foremast hands and mates. From now on, +we are embarked upon an unknown enterprise of doubtful character. I wash +my hands of the voyage. I'll take orders until they conflict with the +laws of these waters. After that I'll request Mr. Marr to place me +ashore."</p> +<p class="pnext">Eagan rubbed his unshaven chin, blinked, and swung toward Marr. "I'm +with the skipper," Eagan said. "I think he's right. I would rather load +up with trade stuff—and other things—than mess with those whales. I +think the crew are with me in this."</p> +<p class="pnext">Stirling stared about him blankly. He felt as if the planks of the ship +were slipping from under his feet. Eagan, from all reports, was a +government spy. Now he was siding with the captain and the wilder +members of the crew who had most certainly laid him low at the beginning +of the voyage.</p> +<p class="pnext">"Repeat that!" sneered Marr, rubbing his hands. "Just turn and tell that +to this crew. Tell them what you said. Tell them you're with me as well +as they are. This man Stirling is trying to cheat us out of fair game. +He'll be running a Sunday school, next. I know his breed—afraid of the +law! What law is north of 53?"</p> +<p class="pnext">"Heaven's law!" Stirling said, sincerely. "You won't raid the rookeries +if I can prevent it. Don't you know that there's only one revenue cutter +in these waters? Are you going to take advantage of that fact?"</p> +<p class="pnext">Whitehouse came across the quarter-deck, clutched Marr by the arm, and +drew the captain halfway toward the wheel and the companion skylight. +They whispered there as Stirling shouldered Eagan to one side, saying +cuttingly: "You're with them, too? I thought you were a man!"</p> +<p class="pnext">The sailor flushed and glanced down at the deck, then turned toward the +crew. "Fight it out yourself," he said as he climbed to the lower deck.</p> +<p class="pnext">Stirling waited for Marr to come forward, glancing longingly over the +slick-covered seas. In mockery, it seemed, the whales were sporting +about the silent ship. One came so close to the bow that a dropped block +on the forecastle deck startled it. It was gone with a defiant toss of +black flukes, and the school started toward the ice.</p> +<p class="pnext">Whitehouse finished whispering to the captain, glided to Stirling, and +grasped his arm. "The old man says to get aloft and work into the ice. +Says we'll whale later. The school's gone, anyway."</p> +<p class="pnext">The peaceful ending to what Stirling had expected would lead to a +general drawing of lines aboard the ship was more than he could stand. +He turned and fastened upon Marr a glance of deep determination, his +fingers coiling into knots.</p> +<p class="pnext">"Remember," the Ice Pilot said, distinctly, "I'll always be on deck. I +want no double crossing."</p> +<p class="pnext">With this shot delivered through his white teeth, Stirling moved +leisurely over the deck and as he descended to the waist, one of the +crew hissed. He wheeled, reached out, grasped the man by the waist and +neck, and threw him over his shoulder like a sack of meal.</p> +<p class="pnext">"Any more?" he asked, grimly.</p> +<p class="pnext">No man of them offered himself though Stirling waited with his glance +taking in the rough circle. He dropped his fingers, moved slowly to the +rail and up the shrouds he climbed till he reached the crow's-nest. +Standing on the edge of this, he rimmed the ice pack from horizon to +horizon.</p> +<p class="pnext">"One bell!" he called down. "All hands stand by braces. Three of you +come aloft and loosen sail."</p> +<p class="pnext">The ship sprang with life. Whitehouse jerked the engine-room telegraph; +the propeller thrashed astern; the sails dropped from the yards and were +sheeted home. The taper jib boom swung toward the open lane to the +north and east and ice floes ground under the stem.</p> +<p class="pnext">For two watches Stirling remained aloft, calling down his orders in a +strong voice. He knew the ice as few men were ever gifted to know it, +and took advantage of all his experience. He held the course through the +lane until, balked, he drove across a sea of slush and thin ice and +crashed the way open to still another pathway to the north.</p> +<p class="pnext">The Pribilofs, already green with moss and spring verdure, were sighted +at sundown. A low shed marked the sealing station where the bachelor +seals had been skinned in days gone by, and a flag flew from a pole at +the side of the Commissioner's house. Its bars of white and red cheered +Stirling. It was the emblem of his country in the Northern seas.</p> +<p class="pnext">No other ships showed within the ice field; Stirling had taken chances +lesser pilots feared. He drove north and east under steam and canvas, +saving the ship from being crushed a score of times. He announced +quietly upon the fourth day that East Cape lay ahead, and pointed over +the bow. Marr, on the quarter-deck, clapped Whitehouse across the +shoulders, and the mate grinned and danced over the planks.</p> +<p class="pnext">The massive solemnity of the great headland, as it rose above the ice +field, held every eye aboard the whaler. It was the farthermost point +east and north of the Siberian continent. Near the foot of the Cape +nestled a native village.</p> +<p class="pnext">"Indian Point?" asked Marr, glaring upward at Stirling.</p> +<p class="pnext">The Ice Pilot nodded as he guided the ship through the last of the shore +ice and ordered the anchor dropped in a sheltered nook. The rattle of +the chain in the hawser hole awoke echoes within the cliff; Indian +canoes in the shape of hair-sealskin umiaks and kayaks darted out to +meet them, and other boats flecked the Straits of Bering, coming down +with the wind and current from East Cape.</p> +<p class="pnext">The <em class="italics">Pole Star</em> was the first ship of the season, and the natives +welcomed it with a great noise. Chiefs were hastily paddled out, and +mounted the quarter-deck to gather about Marr and Whitehouse. Stirling +attended to the throng which swarmed up the anchor chain and forepeak. +Native girls, old women, men and children brought trade stuff of varied +character—salmon, walrus tusks, small whalebone, carved idols, feather +coats, skin caps, and hoods.</p> +<p class="pnext">A large umiak appeared from the ice of the strait, and in its bow stood +a chief, who called Stirling's name. The Ice Pilot reach over the rail +and grasped the hand of the leader of the Diomede Islanders. They had +brought the best of Mazeka boots, which are prized by whalers and the +hunters of the North. These boots were sealskin moccasins, capped to +full length with deerskin, watertight and warm.</p> +<p class="pnext">"Plenty bone ashore," said the native chief, pointing at the igloos of +Indian Point. "Plenty whales this season. Me catchum two."</p> +<p class="pnext">Stirling smiled at the broad face of the Eskimo, then shook his head. +"Plenty ships come soon," he said. "You sell to old Peterson. You +remember, he pay big trade stuff. Don't take whisky."</p> +<p class="pnext">The chief blinked shrewdly, dug deep within his fur parka, and brought +forth a pipe, which he filled with a pinch of cut plug. Stirling offered +a match, and the chief puffed and stared about the ship.</p> +<p class="pnext">"New!" he said with brevity. "Fine ship. You own?"</p> +<p class="pnext">Stirling shook his head and pointed toward the quarter-deck, where Marr +was in conference with the Indian Point chiefs.</p> +<p class="pnext">"He buy whalebone?" asked the Diomede Islander.</p> +<p class="pnext">"I don't think so. You try old Peterson. Maybe he give you plenty."</p> +<p class="pnext">"I want two whaleboats this year," said the shrewd native. "I want ten +guns and whale lines. Next year I catch plenty whales."</p> +<p class="pnext">Stirling recalled the method employed by the natives in capturing +bowheads. They usually fastened from kayaks or umiaks and drove in as +many irons as they could. To each iron was fastened a skin line which +terminated in a seal poke inflated with air. These, if in sufficient +numbers, prevented the whale from sounding and allowed it to be finished +with long, ivory-pointed lances.</p> +<p class="pnext">Drunken natives staggered from the poop and swarmed about the waist and +forepeak of the ship. Marr had distributed whisky for what trade stuff +he needed. He bought three heads of bone for twelve kegs of alcohol and +water mixed. This bone came out in umiaks and was stored with the other +baleen in the forehold.</p> +<p class="pnext">Time passed at the Point. Marr seemed in no great hurry to enter the +Arctic, even going ashore and remaining overnight with the native +chiefs. Sounds of their mirth and drunken carousing floated out.</p> +<p class="pnext">Stirling chafed at the delay. The skipper was evidently waiting for some +message from across the sea. Each ship which passed or dropped anchor at +East Cape was gammed; each time the captain returned without word of his +purpose. Five whalers went through to the summer whaling ground which +extended all of the way to the mouth of the Mackenzie River and beyond.</p> +<p class="pnext">A night came when the sun barely dipped below the western waters. +Stirling had tried to sleep, but finally emerged to the deck with hot, +fevered eyes. The air was heavy and sultry, and mosquitoes buzzed. They +had been blown from off the Siberian tundra.</p> +<p class="pnext">The pack long since had gone through the Straits and down the long reach +of the Bering Sea. A group of natives slept on the forepeak of the <em class="italics">Pole +Star</em>, while a single member of the crew walked slowly from port to +starboard and back again, holding the anchor watch.</p> +<p class="pnext">Some slight noise upon the quarter-deck caused Stirling to turn aft till +he stood in the gloom of the galley cabin. He glanced keenly upward, to +where the drab canvas of the rail showed, with a shadow behind it. A +faint light shone from the open companion.</p> +<p class="pnext">Then, and suddenly, he heard his name called. He started for the lee +poop steps, then paused as a warning was whispered to him. He stared +upward in rising perplexity. A white hand reached over the rail, its +fingers uncoiled, and a dark object fell to the deck. There followed the +sound of soft feet over the quarter-deck's planks and of the shutting of +the cabin companion.</p> +<p class="pnext">Stirling stooped and picked up the object. Unrolling it slowly, he +blushed through his sea tan as he held out a tiny glove. It was such a +glove as only a dainty woman could wear.</p> +<p class="pnext">"By the jumping bowheads!" he exclaimed. "A pretty girl's aboard and +she's noticed me. I wonder who she is?"</p> +</div> +<div class="level-2 section" id="chapter-xvout-of-the-porthole"> +<h2 class="level-2 pfirst section-title title"><a class="toc-backref pginternal" href="#id16">CHAPTER XV—OUT OF THE PORTHOLE</a></h2> +<p class="pfirst">Pressing the glove within the pocket of his pea-jacket, Stirling strode +to the waist of the <em class="italics">Pole Star</em>. From this position he glanced upward at +the quarter-deck, which was deserted.</p> +<p class="pnext">The soft aroma of the perfume struck to his nostrils and he searched his +brain for the events which led up to the dainty offering tossed down to +him.</p> +<p class="pnext">Marr and Whitehouse knew the secret of the after cabin of the whaler. +They never had given any sign that another shared the meals and splendid +staterooms with them. This other had been brought upon the voyage +against her will—Stirling remembered the sob, and the lone figure upon +the poop when they had tied to the North pack. He pieced together the +few observations he had made, and they all led to one conclusion: a +dainty woman, who closely resembled the skipper in height and weight, +was aboard the <em class="italics">Pole Star</em>. She had made the first advance to him. +Others might follow.</p> +<p class="pnext">He rounded the shadow of the galley house and stared at the frowning +headland of Indian Point, then turned and glanced out over the waters of +the Bering Strait. The ice had gone south from around the base of the +headlands. The road to the Arctic was open.</p> +<p class="pnext">He heard then, above the snoring of the natives who were sleeping upon +the foreward deck, the low boom of a distant cannon. It was repeated. A +ship of some kind was signalling to leeward.</p> +<p class="pnext">Searching the sea, Stirling strained his eyes without discovering sign +of smoke or sail. The night was starlit and strangely warm. The +glimmering waters of the Bering to the southward hung like a burnished +mirror. An early sun was starting to swing its upward arc, and a pink +flush made visible the far-off land of Alaska.</p> +<p class="pnext">Again the sound of cannon came to Stirling. It stirred the natives and +brought the lone anchor watch around in his position. He stared at +Stirling.</p> +<p class="pnext">"A ship to leeward," said the Ice Pilot. "Keep your eyes peeled. She's a +long ways off."</p> +<p class="pnext">The seaman went to the rail and leaned over it. He was in that position +when Stirling opened the door of his cabin and stepped inside. He +switched on the light, removed the glove from his pocket, and touched it +to his wide nostrils. He sensed the perfume with throbbing heart. +Feeling the rush of blood to his face, he turned with a guilty start and +placed the glove within an inlaid sextant box. The closing of the lid +sealed his purpose to stand by the woman who was aft.</p> +<p class="pnext">Morning dawned at an Arctic hour, and the white light crept through the +open porthole of Stirling's cabin. He rose and dressed, emerging to the +deck with a wide yawn. The striking bell told him that he had not slept +more than two hours.</p> +<p class="pnext">A seaman brushed by him and hurried forward to where the natives were +standing on the higher coign of vantage which marked the forepeak. All +eyes were turned out over the swiftly running Strait, where a two-funnel +light cruiser cutter plowed with a bone at her stem. She carried no +flag, and the signals set to her bridge halyards were in an unknown +code.</p> +<p class="pnext">Whitehouse glided to Stirling's side. The mate was tensely agitated; he +sputtered and stuttered. "Bly me," he said, "what's she doing 'ere?"</p> +<p class="pnext">"Light cruiser," said Stirling, thoughtfully. "An American—or British. +She's just this side the Diomedes. She did not see us."</p> +<p class="pnext">Whitehouse twisted his loose lips into a purse, and stroked his long, +red nose.</p> +<p class="pnext">Stirling widened his eyes. A dark plume of smoke was all that remained +to mark the ship. This plume stretched along the eastern horizon, then +faded and paled in the sun's first rays.</p> +<p class="pnext">Marr called from aft. Whitehouse turned with a guilty start, hurried +along the weather side of the ship, and mounted to the poop.</p> +<p class="pnext">He returned within a few minutes and touched Stirling on the arm. +"Skipper wants to see you," he said. "It's blym important."</p> +<p class="pnext">Stirling glanced about as he went aft. The ship lay deep within the +shadow of the Point. Her deck forward was covered with natives and trade +stuff. The crew had brought out all of their red underwear and +slop-chest stuff in a search for bargains, and their voices were mingled +with the clatter of native maids and hunters.</p> +<p class="pnext">"What did you make of that cutter?" asked Marr as Stirling reached the +poop.</p> +<p class="pnext">"American or British. Going into the Arctic on some mission. I don't +believe she saw us."</p> +<p class="pnext">"How was that?" Marr was plainly nervous.</p> +<p class="pnext">"We were well under the headland with no lights or canvas showing. We +were in such a position that she could be seen without her seeing us. At +least, that is my opinion, Mr. Marr."</p> +<p class="pnext">The little captain toyed with the buttons of his pea-jacket. "That +sounds reasonable," he said. "Why is she up here?"</p> +<p class="pnext">"I don't know."</p> +<p class="pnext">"Did you ever see cruisers up here before?"</p> +<p class="pnext">"Only once. That was the old <em class="italics">Bainbridge</em>."</p> +<p class="pnext">"What brought her to these waters?"</p> +<p class="pnext">"Seal poachers!"</p> +<p class="pnext">Stirling weighed his words and shot them directly at Marr, then watched +their effect like a gunner watches a shot go home. Marr dropped his hand +from his buttons and paled slightly.</p> +<p class="pnext">"Did she get them?" he asked.</p> +<p class="pnext">"She certainly did! She also removed Captains Jones and Priestly from +the <em class="italics">Spouter</em> and the brig <em class="italics">Belvidere</em>. Both captains were trading +whisky for bone; there is a law up here that men should not do that!"</p> +<p class="pnext">Again Stirling watched the effect of his words. Marr had many barrels of +cheap trade whisky aboard the <em class="italics">Pole Star</em>, and already had sent some +ashore.</p> +<p class="pnext">"That will be all," said the skipper with a quick frown. "You are too +confounded personal! Haven't I a right to ask you a few questions? Who's +captain of this ship?"</p> +<p class="pnext">"Captains are not immune from certain laws. One law applies to all men. +You cannot trade rotten whisky with natives. You cannot rob them of +their bone for a barrel of water and alcohol. You cannot raid rookeries +and get away with it. That cruiser is the answer. You have escaped so +far. You may not be so lucky next time."</p> +<p class="pnext">Marr wheeled with a vicious oath. "Get forward!" he said. "Get where you +belong. You ought to join some of these canting missionary schools. +There's one or two I'd like to drop you at."</p> +<p class="pnext">Stirling paused on the first poop step and closed his fists, but opened +them again and went on down to the deck, moving slowly forward to where +the crew and natives were trading. He singled out the Diomede Islander +who had disposed of most of his sealskin boots.</p> +<p class="pnext">"When do you go back?" he asked, guardedly.</p> +<p class="pnext">The native tapped the rail with his pipe and filled its bowl with a +pinch of cut plug. He then broke off a match from a block and scraped +it carefully upon the deck, straightened, and drew in five deep breaths +before the tobacco was consumed, and he answered.</p> +<p class="pnext">"Pretty soon, now," he said, replacing the pipe in his deerskin coat, +and glancing through puffed eyes at the sea in the direction of the +Lesser Diomede. "Me take umiak and trade stuff and wife and little ones +and me go."</p> +<p class="pnext">"Do you remember old Hank Peterson?"</p> +<p class="pnext">"Me savvy him. All the same whaling captain."</p> +<p class="pnext">"Big captain!" said Stirling, with a smile. "You see him this season?"</p> +<p class="pnext">"Yes! Me see him. He always stops for boots."</p> +<p class="pnext">"You give him something for me?"</p> +<p class="pnext">"Yes; I give."</p> +<p class="pnext">Stirling hurried into his cabin and tore a leaf from an ancient log +book. Upon this he wrote a message to Peterson which he felt was certain +to be delivered by the faithful Diomede chief.</p> +<p class="pnext">The message concerned the Seal Islands and the danger of a raid being +made against them.</p> +<blockquote><div> +<p class="pfirst">Notify any revenue cutters or cruisers,</p> +</div></blockquote> +<p class="pfirst">Stirling commanded.</p> +<p class="pnext">The native chief took the scrap of paper, glanced about in caution, and +crammed it into a bead-woven poke wherein were his most valuable +possessions. "Me give 'em!" he declared, positively. "White captain, he +get maybe day or two. Plenty whale ships come now."</p> +<p class="pnext">Stirling was satisfied with his messenger. The chief departed from the +<em class="italics">Pole Star's</em> side after bundling aboard his umiak all of his trade +stuff and relatives. These last were seventeen in number, and the skin +boat was deep enough in the sea to suggest that a catastrophe would +happen before the Lesser Diomede was reached.</p> +<p class="pnext">The last sight of the chief, however, was a reassuring one to Stirling. +The faithful native had skilfully risen in the bow of the umiak, +steadied his short legs, and taken out his beaded poke. This he waved +overhead, being careful not to capsize the laden boat.</p> +<p class="pnext">Stirling had answered by lifting his cap and holding it aloft, then the +boat was paddled around a rocky point. Other umiaks and kayaks followed. +Many of the natives went ashore, taking the stuff they had bought; the +few that remained were aft with Marr. One was singing a drunken song +which never before had been heard on land or sea.</p> +<p class="pnext">Eagan stepped to Stirling's side as the last notes of this song floated +down the deck.</p> +<p class="pnext">"Booze!" said the seaman, laconically.</p> +<p class="pnext">"Alcohol!" exclaimed Stirling. "These natives were all right until the +white men came. They hunted and fished and lived simple lives."</p> +<p class="pnext">Eagan smiled. "What are you going to do about this Siberian bunch?" he +asked. "The U. S. A. has no jurisdiction over here."</p> +<p class="pnext">"It has! Russia is not to blame. It isn't Russian whalers and traders +who do the mischief."</p> +<p class="pnext">"Forget the preaching," said Eagan with Frisco slang. "Keep your +opinions to yourself, Stirling. The day for booze in the United States +seems to be about over, anyway. Just now——"</p> +<p class="pnext">The seaman's voice trailed off into silence. He thrust out a strong jaw, +drilled Stirling with a meaning glance, then was gone with a swift turn +across the deck.</p> +<p class="pnext">Stirling was still thinking of the whisky; like all strong natures, he +dwelt too long on one subject.</p> +<p class="pnext">He moved to the rail and leaned his elbows upon the chains where they +were spliced to the shrouds and standing rigging. He swept the native +village with a painstaking glance; it was not the same as first he had +known it. The igloos back in the valley, which was still crusted with +winter snow, were few and small in dimensions. The frame shacks and rude +tents of the summer village bore the certain stamp of neglect and +carelessness. Dogs hunted about for scraps of meat. Children in trade +calico played with a listless air. The umiaks and kayaks were patched +and broken.</p> +<p class="pnext">Stirling frowned. Other villages along the Siberian and Alaskan shores +were similarly stamped. They had been touched and polluted by the +influence of those whalers who found it easier to allow the natives to +secure the whalebone than it was to go out to sea and get it.</p> +<p class="pnext">A sharp command broke through Stirling's thoughts, and he turned from +his view of the village. Marr stood at the weather poop steps.</p> +<p class="pnext">The little skipper pointed toward the waist of the whaleboat. "Lower +that!" he snapped. "You and Eagan and about two seamen drop up to East +Cape. See if there's any bone there."</p> +<p class="pnext">Stirling answered the skipper's command with a slow glance, moved not +too hastily toward the whaleboat, and climbed inside. From this +position, he called Eagan and two seamen who were idling on the +forepeak.</p> +<p class="pnext">The boat was cleared of lashings and lowered, with Stirling in the bow +and Eagan in the stern, then the seamen came down the dangling falls and +dropped aboard. They thrust out two long oars and shoved the whaleboat +from the ship.</p> +<p class="pnext">Stirling glanced at the telltale on the <em class="italics">Pole Star</em>, then motioned to up +the single sail and lower the centerboard. The light craft sailed into +the wind and canted far to leeward, gliding from the shadow of the +headland as the sun swung over the shoulder of Siberia.</p> +<p class="pnext">East Cape was reached soon after dark. Stirling sprang ashore and +shouted; then repeated the call. Lights shone from the windows set in +the summer shacks.</p> +<p class="pnext">A pack of shaggy dogs, followed by three natives, came out and stared at +the whaleboat. One dog crept down the beach and sniffed Stirling's +native boots, then raised his snout and called a wolf's long howl of +welcome.</p> +<p class="pnext">A rude door was opened in the larger shack, and the chief stood revealed +in the glow of the inner fire, about which native women were squatted. +Stirling advanced and held out his hand, touching the chief on the +shoulder. "You remember me," he said. "Me ice pilot of the <em class="italics">Beluga</em>. You +got any whalebone to trade?"</p> +<p class="pnext">The chief's face cleared, and he voiced a noisy welcome. He had no +whalebone; furs he showed and also tusks. Some of these were carved with +running men and spouting whales.</p> +<p class="pnext">It was after dawn when Stirling gave the order to run out the whaleboat +and make for the <em class="italics">Pole Star</em>. The chief, his family, and a score of +natives waved a silent farewell, standing on the beach until the boat +turned a ledge of rock and vanished into the smooth waters of the +Strait.</p> +<p class="pnext">Stirling was steering as the light boat swung under the <em class="italics">Pole Star's</em> +stern and glided alongside. He glanced up at the overhanging poop where +lights showed through the portholes. Out of one an arm reached and +waved, and he heard a low-voiced warning. It was muffled and indistinct, +but it was a girl's tones which warned. He had but time to swing the +tiller when the boat scraped against the whaler's sheathing and Eagan +caught a dangling fall.</p> +</div> +<div class="level-2 section" id="chapter-xvifrom-his-pocket"> +<h2 class="level-2 pfirst section-title title"><a class="toc-backref pginternal" href="#id17">CHAPTER XVI—FROM HIS POCKET</a></h2> +<p class="pfirst">The Ice Pilot reached the deck by way of the chains in the waist, and +saw that the entire crew had gathered between the galley house and the +break of the poop.</p> +<p class="pnext">Marr was with them. He wheeled, strutted over the planks, and planted +himself before Stirling. "What did you find at East Cape?" he asked.</p> +<p class="pnext">Stirling doubled his fists and stepped back. "Little or nothing," he +said, glancing over the skipper's slight shoulder and meeting the eyes +of the crew which seemed suddenly hostile. "Little or nothing," he +repeated, simply. "There's pelts there and ivory, but no bone. I told +them we had no whisky to trade."</p> +<p class="pnext">"You did?"</p> +<p class="pnext">Stirling flushed and backed to the rail. He heard Eagan drop to the deck +beside him, and the seaman was followed by the two sailors who had made +the trip to East Cape.</p> +<p class="pnext">"I did!"</p> +<p class="pnext">"Don't you know that this crew is trying to make an honest living? Don't +you know that every brave man aboard gets a two hundredth lay of the +bone we trade or capture? Why didn't you try the natives with a little +whisky bait? You'd have found bone hidden in every igloo."</p> +<p class="pnext">"Go yourself!" said Stirling. "I won't do your dirty work!"</p> +<p class="pnext">Marr turned to the half-moon of menacing men. "You heard that," he said. +"That's the kind of man this pilot is—all for himself. I told you we'd +have to look out for him. We can't go on any further until he is taken +care of."</p> +<p class="pnext">The crew had reached some sort of agreement before Stirling arrived from +East Cape; this much he saw with widening eyes, glancing from face to +face. The Kanakas had been chosen for their loyalty to the little +skipper. The boat steerers were Frisco dock rats who had the run of the +steerage—an elevated position to them. The rest of the crew had scant +hopes for anything save plunder and spoils in this life. They would have +willingly followed Marr through the entire group of rookeries, starting +at Disko Island and winding up at the Pribilofs.</p> +<p class="pnext">Stirling reached and rested his hand on the pinrail, where were a dozen +brass belaying pins. He lifted his hand, wound his fingers about the +nearest, and raised it an inch or more. A tenseness of desperate right +steeled his muscles; his jaw muscles hardened to balls, and his lips +closed in a grim line.</p> +<p class="pnext">Marr reached backward and clapped his palm over his right hip. The +motion was a signal. The crew snarled in a running line of anger, +advanced in a half-circle, and closed about Stirling. One held a sheath +knife openly displayed in his hand.</p> +<p class="pnext">"Kill the squealer!" he exclaimed. "Kill him! He's preventing us from +getting what's coming on this voyage. Darn, says I, if I'll go to Frisco +broke. What d'ye say, mates?"</p> +<p class="pnext">"Hold on!" cried Stirling, raising his ponderous right fist. "The first +man who tries anything gets this!"</p> +<p class="pnext">Eagan stepped out from the rail a half step, and stood partly between +Stirling and the little skipper. There was that written in the seaman's +face which held every man upon the ship. His eyes glittered with high +light, and his body rested on the balls of his feet as if to spring.</p> +<p class="pnext">"A moment!" Eagan snapped in steeled tones. "This layout will lead to +murder. Murder leads to swingin'. I don't want to swing. I'm with the +skipper in every way. Get that?"</p> +<p class="pnext">The crew glanced at each face before them—Stirling's strong, but +uncertain; Eagan's masterful; Marr's openly sneering.</p> +<p class="pnext">"We get it," a sailor answered back.</p> +<p class="pnext">"Then, I suggest we all go slow. This Stirling has been cracking too +much about whisky and seals. He's liable to see too much and say too +many things afterward. You get me, don't you?"</p> +<p class="pnext">"We get you."</p> +<p class="pnext">"On the other hand," continued Eagan, "there's the danger of messing the +whole voyage up. If we croak this fellow, it'll get out and we'll have +to pay. If we maroon him anywhere along this coast, he'll find a way to +signal that cruiser that went north, or the <em class="italics">Bear</em>."</p> +<p class="pnext">"How about an island?" a boat steerer asked.</p> +<p class="pnext">"That's it!" declared Eagan, dropping his hand. "We'll put him on an +island after we get done with the little trip the captain has planned +for us. That island will be in the North Pacific. We can pick out a +nice, quiet one."</p> +<p class="pnext">Stirling, with fist still ready for action, turned toward Eagan and +exclaimed: "You're with them, eh?"</p> +<p class="pnext">"Certainly; all the way! You're one against thirty—more than that, +counting the engine-room force and the stokehold bunch. Put down that +fist and get into your cabin; stay there and don't come on deck. +Otherwise they're going to mop up the ship with you."</p> +<p class="pnext">"I'll chance that——" started Stirling, advancing upon the crew, both +fists now clenched.</p> +<p class="pnext">He never hesitated in the charge. It was bull strong and intended to +clear the way to the poop; men went over as ninepins; blows glanced from +his shoulders. He reached the poop steps with arms twined about him, +threw these off with a savage twist and squirm, and went up as a Kanaka +harpooner seized his legs. Dragging slowly, he grasped the rail and bent +his body.</p> +<p class="pnext">It was then that a belaying pin flew across the waist of the ship, +glanced from the quarter-deck rail, and struck Stirling in the temple. +He rolled down the steps—the centre of a snarling pack of men—then lay +quiet, with blood flowing from the wound in his head.</p> +<p class="pnext">Eagan pulled off the pack and lifted him like a heavy sack of meal. +"I'll put him in his cabin," he said with a grunt. "I'll watch him. +Leave that part to me."</p> +<p class="pnext">Marr turned and faced the crew. "Get the anchor up!" he ordered. "We'll +drop down the wind and make for our landfall. Remember, we're looking +for bowheads until I give other instructions."</p> +<p class="pnext">Eagan laid Stirling on his bunk and went to work. He found water and a +clean towel, bathed the swollen wound, leaned over, and shook Stirling +into consciousness.</p> +<p class="pnext">"Lay low!" he whispered. "Don't you know who I am?"</p> +<p class="pnext">Stirling rolled, and pressed his hand to his eyes. "I don't know," he +said, weakly. "Who are you?"</p> +<p class="pnext">Eagan reached into his pocket and drew forth a gold badge. He held it +before Stirling's swimming eyes.</p> +<p class="pnext">"I am a Deputy Seal Commissioner," said the seaman.</p> +</div> +<div class="level-2 section" id="chapter-xviiinto-forbidden-waters"> +<h2 class="level-2 pfirst section-title title"><a class="toc-backref pginternal" href="#id18">CHAPTER XVII—INTO FORBIDDEN WATERS</a></h2> +<p class="pfirst">The long Northern day died at last as the <em class="italics">Pole Star</em> drove south and +west through the ice-flecked waters of the Bering Sea.</p> +<p class="pnext">Night shaded overhead and the wind sank to a following breeze which +flapped the sails on the polished spars. Steam was got up in the +boilers, the screw thrashed, and the ship plunged on—her sharp stem +cutting through the drift ice like a knife going through thin paper.</p> +<p class="pnext">Into the upward swing of the Arctic sun the whaler steered. Fog drifted +upon them, and when it lifted there was exposed a wide waste of sullen +waters upon the surface of which seal and walrus sported. Once a killer +whale attracted attention. Some of the green crew called "A blow!"</p> +<p class="pnext">Marr knew better than this. He urged the ship on as if it were carrying +the mail for Southern waters. He stood the watch with Whitehouse, and +both seamen had received Eagan's report that Stirling was resting easily +and was making no trouble.</p> +<p class="pnext">They consulted as to the best course to pursue in regard to Stirling. +Marr was for locking him securely in the chain-locker—this was a tiny +space forward the forecastle. Whitehouse, who had taken a liking to +Stirling, admiring his prowess with the ice and the conditions met in +the Bering, suggested that Eagan should be left in charge of the captive +and held responsible. Marr agreed, neither man suspecting that the +sailor had any motive in staying near Stirling. Their first suspicion +had been forgotten. Eagan had played a difficult part and won his point.</p> +<p class="pnext">It was on the third day that the <em class="italics">Pole Star</em> entered, as dusk crept +across the sky, the zone of danger where no ships were allowed at that +season of the year, the strictest patrolled patch of water in the world. +Seals of the fur-skin variety, which are so valuable and scarce, sported +about.</p> +<p class="pnext">Marr drove on with all lights shaded and a canvas cone capping the <em class="italics">Pole +Star's</em> funnel and steam pipe. Orders had been given for each man to +stand at position. Guns had been laid in the whaleboats, and great oak +capstan bars took the place of the whaling gear.</p> +<p class="pnext">An air of expectancy filled each sailor's breast; the die was cast, and +they were close to the great game. Whaling was for old men and +weaklings. Stories had been told in the forecastle and steerage +concerning the sudden profits of a seal raid. MacLane was cited as an +instance of desperate daring and tremendous enterprise, MacLane who had +raided both the Copper Group and the Pribilofs in one season. He had +brought his schooner into Seattle with her deck planks bulging from the +salted skins beneath.</p> +<p class="pnext">Eagan moved from Stirling's cabin to the forecastle and back again. He +had secured a pair of rusty handcuffs with which he made great show of +securing the Ice Pilot, where he lay on his back. Now and then one of +the galley crowd peered in through the open porthole and reported to the +sailors on deck.</p> +<p class="pnext">A double lookout was maintained from forepeak and quarter-deck, and the +horizon was closely scanned by Marr and Whitehouse. The rookeries lay +close to the south and west and the ship had been driven toward the +northeast point of St. Paul's Island.</p> +<p class="pnext">Stirling sensed his position by the slowing of the screw and the +direction of the slight wind and he reviewed the entire series of events +since coming aboard the ship. His head had now cleared, and the slight +swelling at the temple was going down under Eagan's skillful treatment.</p> +<p class="pnext">The situation was desperate enough. Marr had taken the long chance and +reached the waters about the rookeries. But two armed ships were known +to be in the Bering Sea or the Arctic. One was the revenue cutter +<em class="italics">Bear</em>; the other, the unknown cruiser which had driven through Bering +Strait.</p> +<p class="pnext">Stirling's anger boiled and simmered as he lay in a handcuffed position +and waited for reports from Eagan, who had to be careful. There was +scant chance of their ever capturing the ship. Two against forty +offered little hope to dwell upon; another method than violence would +have to be found.</p> +<p class="pnext">Eagan came in at one bell before midnight, closed the door, pocketed the +keys, then moved over to the porthole and glanced keenly out.</p> +<p class="pnext">"How're we heading?" whispered Stirling.</p> +<p class="pnext">"Southwest."</p> +<p class="pnext">"Dead on St. Paul?"</p> +<p class="pnext">"She's just been raised from aft. Marr and Whitehouse sent the word +forward. The whole tribe of Kanakas, Gay Islanders, dock rats, and +cinder-muckers—to say nothing of the two first-class engineers, who +ought to know better—are itching to get at the seals. It will be as +much as our lives are worth to interfere. Marr has them all worked up."</p> +<p class="pnext">"Where's the <em class="italics">Bear</em>?"</p> +<p class="pnext">"Heaven only knows! Seagraves, her captain, told me in Frisco that he +had an entire ocean to guard. There's the Russian coast and the Kotzebue +and Norton Sound."</p> +<p class="pnext">"That other cruiser?"</p> +<p class="pnext">"She's helping him out. Likely there's an expedition cast away in the +Arctic. The <em class="italics">Kadik</em> was reported crushed. The cruiser may have gone +through to pick up the survivors."</p> +<p class="pnext">"Then Marr will succeed?" Stirling hinged himself upward and stared at +Eagan.</p> +<p class="pnext">"Looks that way." Eagan closed his fists and turned from the porthole. +"Looks bad," he continued with hard eyes. "At that, Stirling, we've +three or four hours yet. Much can happen in that time. The <em class="italics">Bear</em> may +swing around St. Paul."</p> +<p class="pnext">"Have you made no plans? The Commission must know that you are on this +ship. They will be waiting for word from you."</p> +<p class="pnext">Eagan smiled despite his doubts. "We're two," he said. "They don't +suspect me, and I have a plan. I shall land at the rookeries and try to +reach the guard. If I fail, then you can spike the ship in some manner +till the <em class="italics">Bear</em> is reached by wireless."</p> +<p class="pnext">Stirling raised his wrists and eyed the handcuffs.</p> +<p class="pnext">"They're tight," he suggested. "Suppose you let them out a notch. Then, +whatever happens to you during the raid, I'll be on deck and active. Who +was it threw that belaying pin?"</p> +<p class="pnext">"Whitehouse."</p> +<p class="pnext">Stirling made a mental note for future guidance. "Now, Eagan," he +continued, "you had better loosen the cuffs and leave me an automatic +revolver. I hear the screw slowing. We're right off the rookery. Listen. +That's the surf on the beach."</p> +<p class="pnext">"Worse than that," said the government agent. "There's also the sound of +seals barking. Hear them? I wouldn't wonder if they sense what is +coming."</p> +<p class="pnext">The seaman reached downward in the half-light and inserted a key in the +handcuff lock. Stirling guided him with cool fingers, and soon the cuffs +fitted loosely.</p> +<p class="pnext">"Now the gun," said Stirling.</p> +<p class="pnext">Eagan glided to the porthole, glanced shrewdly out, then returned to +Stirling's side. "Take mine," the deputy said. "I won't need it. Hide it +under your mattress."</p> +<p class="pnext">The icy coolness in the man's tones steeled Stirling. He lay back as +Eagan went across the cabin, opened the door, and stepped swiftly out +upon the deck. A lock clicked.</p> +<p class="pnext">An impending silence lay over the <em class="italics">Pole Star</em>. The shuffling of men on +deck, the creak of blocks, the straining of falls, told of boats being +lowered. Voices were muffled as a light anchor was dropped at the end of +a whale line, serving to swing the ship and hold it toward the shelving +shore.</p> +<p class="pnext">Stirling caught the deep roar of the bachelor seals. In fancy he saw the +boats glide across the water and grate upon the beach. He saw, in fancy +again, the raised capstan bars and the shattered skulls of the prey.</p> +<p class="pnext">A boat ground against the ship's side, a block creaked, a laugh rang and +was stilled. Then footfalls sounded, and the porthole was darkened.</p> +<p class="pnext">Whitehouse thrust his long nose through the opening and squinted toward +Stirling. "You're there," the mate muttered. "Be blym quiet, let me tell +you that. It'll all be over in 'alf a hour. Too bad you weren't with us, +Stirling."</p> +<p class="pnext">The Ice Pilot did not answer and the mate's face disappeared from the +porthole. Another boat touched the ship's side. Bundles of pelts were +dragged to the forehold and dropped downward. Hushed instructions were +given to return to the rookery.</p> +<p class="pnext">Stirling rolled over and felt for the gun under his mattress. Its cold +barrel nerved him to rise and sit upon the edge of the bunk. He cocked +the trigger and waited, his eyes toward the porthole, then turned and +stared at the locked door.</p> +<p class="pnext">"Time to be doing something," he said, simply. "They're ripping the +rookeries wide open, without being discovered. Like as not they've +overpowered the native guard. That'll go hard with them later."</p> +<p class="pnext">He stood erect and worked one hand free from the cuff. Winding the chain +about his wrist, he moved toward the porthole and peered out. A black +velvet band stretched over the sea, and through it came stars as his +eyes accustomed themselves to the view. He stared out over the ship's +rail, to where he saw faint white spots which marked the drift ice. +Beyond these was a silver running ripple.</p> +<p class="pnext">The position of the ship with its whale-line anchorage was close to the +hidden beach. Stirling sensed the slow rise of the waves, which marked +shallow bottom. The idea came to him that if the line were cut which led +to the anchor, the <em class="italics">Pole Star</em> most certainly would go ashore. Once +ashore, the crew would be unable to work her out in time to escape. +Eagan could be expected to give some sort of alarm, and the guard on the +other islands of the seal group would descend upon them.</p> +<p class="pnext">"I'll chance it," said Stirling. "Here goes for the door and a rush to +the anchor rope. I didn't hear them drop a chain."</p> +<p class="pnext">He took one step away from the porthole. A gliding foot sounded outside +upon the ship's planks, and he stood rigid, then leaned toward the bunk.</p> +<p class="pnext">The footfall was repeated. It came closer to the corner of the galley +house, and a voice sounded from somewhere forward. A rattle of oars +swung up the slight breeze, and seals barked from the red shores of the +rookery.</p> +<p class="pnext">"Quiet!"</p> +<p class="pnext">Stirling touched the side of his bunk with both hands, bent, and +prepared to roll over. The handcuff chain clicked metallically.</p> +<p class="pnext">"Quiet!" The sound was faint and came to him as a warning. He waited, +his shoulders lifted with his deep breathing, his eyes fastened upon the +velvet circle of the open porthole.</p> +<p class="pnext">A face came slowly into view like the shadow of the moon crossing the +disk of the sun, and Stirling dropped his jaw in wonderment. It was far +too soft a face for any of the crew. The eyes that stared in at his were +deep blue and trustful.</p> +<p class="pnext">"Quiet!"</p> +<p class="pnext">"Yes; yes," he answered, feeling a rush of blood to his cheeks.</p> +<p class="pnext">"Take this quickly."</p> +<p class="pnext">Stirling rose by straightening his legs and back and stepped over the +floor of his cabin, his unshackled hand reaching out. He touched the +edge of the porthole, and his fingers groped outside. They came in +contact with a tiny pearl-handled revolver. He drew it in and wondered +at its diminutive size.</p> +<p class="pnext">"Quiet, Mr. Stirling!"</p> +<p class="pnext">He tossed the revolver to his bunk and turned toward the porthole. A +cupid's bow of red lips, through which shone white teeth that met in an +even row, greeted him.</p> +<p class="pnext">"What is it?" he asked, huskily. "What—who are you?"</p> +<p class="pnext">A pink finger touched the lips so invitingly offered; golden-bronze +hair, capped with a tam-o'-shanter, bobbed and moved away, then came +again as the blue eyes searched about the gloom of the cabin.</p> +<p class="pnext">A sound of more oars in locks struck up the wind; a voice warned from +the quarter-deck; and a shuffle echoed along the deck in the lee of the +galley house.</p> +<p class="pnext">"Who—why did you come to me?"</p> +<p class="pnext">The lips closed doubtfully and then opened. "You will know soon enough," +said the girl. "I'm going now. Be careful, Mr. Stirling. Be very +careful, for my sake. Don't do anything that would endanger your +life—or the captain's."</p> +<p class="pnext">"Are you the captain's——?"</p> +<p class="pnext">Stirling never finished the question. A white pallor drove the colour +from the girl's cheeks, and she was gone even as he stared out through +the open porthole. Her footfalls sounded along the deck, died away aft, +and there came then the heavier feet of a sailor. He rounded the corner +of the galley house, peered over the rail to the north and east, and +then strode by Stirling.</p> +<p class="pnext">A heavy capstan bar was over his shoulder, an open knife gleamed from +his belt, his jaw was set and thrust slightly outward. Stirling +recognized in him one of the Frisco dock rats who had been most +aggressive in the attack when Whitehouse had hurled the belaying pin.</p> +<p class="pnext">Stirling turned and glanced at the panels of the door; they were not +strong. He lifted his shoulder and faced about. He could break to +freedom in one bull-like lunge; afterward would come the severing of the +anchor line and the casting away of the ship.</p> +<p class="pnext">He dwelt upon the exact situation and eyed the velvet beyond the +porthole. The stars were paling. They had changed from white light +points to yellow specks; they swam and danced in the morning's haze. An +Arctic sun would soon be leaping the eastern horizon.</p> +</div> +<div class="level-2 section" id="chapter-xviiiwith-the-speed-of-wind"> +<h2 class="level-2 pfirst section-title title"><a class="toc-backref pginternal" href="#id19">CHAPTER XVIII—WITH THE SPEED OF WIND</a></h2> +<p class="pfirst">The girl had given him courage, since her tiny offering still lay upon +the bunk. Unconsciously he reached for it and twirled the silver-plated +barrel. It was fully loaded with six cartridges.</p> +<p class="pnext">"Two guns," he said. "I'll go!"</p> +<p class="pnext">He moved not too quickly to the door and bent down. The lock was on the +inside, held by four small screws. He tested the bolt by pressing +against a panel with his shoulder. A click sounded in the chamfer.</p> +<p class="pnext">Searching his pocket with his freed hand, he touched a ten-cent piece, +drew this out and eyed it. It would do as a screw driver, and he found +the slot of the first screw. It turned easily enough then; rapidly he +worked with every nerve alert. Boats arrived and pushed off from the +side of the ship; the crew were busy in the forehold; a watch-tackle +creaked; and coarse remarks rolled along the deck. The poachers were +intent on getting the seal pelts stored below before morning.</p> +<p class="pnext">Stirling removed the third screw from the lock, pocketed it and drew +back for a last glance through the porthole. A streak of yellow and a +flaming whorl had shot athwart the sky; dawn was breaking swiftly in +the Arctic east. It presaged a cloudless day.</p> +<p class="pnext">He returned to the door, after listening intently, and tore the loosened +lock from the woodwork. Tossing this to the bunk, he strained with his +fingertips, digging deeply into the nearest panel. The door slid open on +noiseless guides, and a breath of salty air greeted him.</p> +<p class="pnext">He felt to see if both revolvers were in his pockets, then, working +rapidly, arranged a rude dummy in the bunk. This he formed out of a +blanket and two southwesters, so that it resembled the sleeping form of +a man. He stepped to the door with a dry chuckle of satisfaction, and +went out on deck and close under the rail without being detected.</p> +<p class="pnext">Raising his bare head, he glanced toward the island, with its looming +shadows and rocky walls. Below these walls were the homes of the great +bull seals and their mates. The animals had been disturbed, and their +barking and roar blended with the sound of the waves on the sand.</p> +<p class="pnext">Beyond, and to leeward of the bull herd, were richer rookeries where had +gathered the bachelor seals and those denied the other homes. It was to +this portion of the beach that Marr had guided his hunters, and they had +made short work of most of the bachelor seals. They had plied capstan +bars, while the Kanakas and Gay Islanders had done the skinning.</p> +<p class="pnext">Stirling saw the white sheen of a whaleboat being paddled out to the +ship. He reached into his pocket, removed the automatic which Eagan had +given him, and crept on hands and knees toward the forepeak.</p> +<p class="pnext">Five of the crew were below in the hold from whence a light struck +upward and illuminated the standing rigging and spars of the ship. A +voice called from the quarter-deck. It was Whitehouse who stood there, +Marr having gone ashore with the raiders.</p> +<p class="pnext">Stirling watched his chance and stood erect. There seemed no way to +fail. The ship swung with gentle tugging in the bight of a whale line +that had been lashed to a small anchor. The double line showed +distinctly from the position where he stood. He had but to rush forward, +lean over, sever the line, and get back to the cabin before Whitehouse +discovered that the ship was adrift.</p> +<p class="pnext">The Ice Pilot turned and stared along the deck to where the mate's +figure moved grotesquely behind the canvas rail. Two or three seamen had +hurried aft to meet the outcoming boat, and they mounted the poop ladder +on the weather side and joined Whitehouse.</p> +<p class="pnext">Stirling reached the heel of the foremast after cautiously rounding the +fore hatch. His eyes hardened as he lifted his hand, poised it before +him, and took one step toward the capstan and the starboard-anchor davit +to which the whale line had been fastened.</p> +<p class="pnext">Then like a scarlet snake with myriad scales, there rose from the island +a rocket which reached to the higher skies, curved, and burst into a +star shower of green and blue lights. The flare from this rocket brought +out the rookeries and the whaleboats; the dead, skinned seals; the +crouched figures of the crew ashore. It bathed the entire ocean with +sinister light; it struck a spike of terror into the raiders' hearts.</p> +<p class="pnext">They threw down skinning knives and bludgeons. They charged down across +the red sands and thrust out the boats, glancing back with blanched +faces as they frantically rowed toward the ship.</p> +<p class="pnext">Stirling heard Whitehouse roll out a string of oaths which were as lurid +as the rocket's warning glare. A stout shout sounded from Marr, who was +in the leading whaleboat. Fire doors were opened below deck, scoops +grated across the stokehold plates, the first engineer climbed swiftly +to the companion and sprang out on deck.</p> +<p class="pnext">The seal raiders were discovered; the guards had been warned on the +other islands of the group. A wireless message was even then flashing +across the waters of the Bering Sea. The <em class="italics">Bear</em>, or some other ship, +would be down upon them.</p> +<p class="pnext">Stirling realized exactly what had happened, and his brain worked +swiftly. There was yet time to cut the anchor lines, but this would be +done by the returning crew. In no other way could they sheer the ship +from the shore and make to open sea.</p> +<p class="pnext">He stepped back, brushed against a seaman who had risen from the +forehatch, and rounded the galley house before the startled sailor could +detect who had pressed against him.</p> +<p class="pnext">The door to the cabin was slightly open. Stirling thrust through his +fingers and tugged, then slipped inside and closed the door. Still +thinking clearly, he shoved the two guns under the mattress of his bunk, +screwed the lock back in place, then lay down and replaced the cuff over +his freed wrist.</p> +<p class="pnext">A quiet smile wreathed his face as he listened to the sounds which +floated in through the open porthole. Curses and commands mingled in a +jargon; boats were hurriedly hoisted to their positions on the davits; +seamen sprang to the decks and rushed forward.</p> +<p class="pnext">A bell sounded in the engine room; the screw thrashed and bit deeply +into the sea. The <em class="italics">Pole Star</em> swung, cleared the beach by a scant +cable's length, and drove out toward the north and east.</p> +<p class="pnext">A grim face darkened the porthole, and Marr's glance bored the gloom of +the cabin until he discerned Stirling's form on the bunk.</p> +<p class="pnext">"You're there!" he said, bitterly. "Well, you'll stay there for some +time. You and that rat Eagan came near spoiling our plans."</p> +<p class="pnext">Stirling did not answer the irate skipper, thinking an answer beneath +him. It was plainly evident, however, that Eagan was out of the lives of +the men aboard the <em class="italics">Pole Star</em>. He had awakened the entire Bering Sea +against the poachers.</p> +<p class="pnext">Driving rapidly, under all steam and a well-set foresail and main, the +<em class="italics">Pole Star</em> lay the island of St. Paul over her counter as the sun +brightened the waters of the Bering Sea to the eastward.</p> +<p class="pnext">The alarm had been given; they were in great danger. Watchers on the +island, including Eagan, would see the poacher going spars down before +they laid aside their glasses. Its course would be given to the first +government boat raised by wireless. It was more than probable that the +<em class="italics">Bear</em> would take up the chase by noon.</p> +<p class="pnext">Stirling felt the swift shift of helm which came at sunrise. Marr had +realized his danger and had sheered toward the west at least two points. +This course, by magnetic compass, would bring the ship broadside of +Siberia and into the wide mouth of the Gulf of Anadir.</p> +<p class="pnext">The galley boy, accompanied by Whitehouse, appeared at the cabin door as +the ship's bell was struck eight times. The mate noticed the loose +condition of the lock as he inserted his own key. He stepped inside and +examined the screws which Stirling had hastily replaced, his glance +shrewd and hard.</p> +<p class="pnext">"You'll go aft!" he said in bitter tones. "We're not taking any chances +with you from now on. It's a blym long woiy from here to the port we'll +reach some doiy."</p> +<p class="pnext">Stirling sat upright and reached for the food which the boy had brought +on a tin tray. He drank the coffee, smiling as Whitehouse lingered in +the open doorway.</p> +<p class="pnext">The two men locked glances. Stirling's eyes held, steady and +penetrating, but Whitehouse turned with a quick oath. "I'll be back," he +said over his shoulder as he vanished from the opening.</p> +<p class="pnext">The galley boy was gathering up the tins and cups when Marr appeared, +followed by the mate. The little skipper looked somewhat the worse for +the events of the night—his face was unshaven, a splotch of dried +seal's blood showed on his cheek, one hand was bandaged, and his eyes +were sunken and red-rimmed.</p> +<p class="pnext">"Had your lock off," he said, as he clapped a hand to his side pocket +and strode into the cabin. "Well, you didn't do much. Eagan did it all. +At that we got enough seals to make expenses."</p> +<p class="pnext">Stirling crossed his wrists and clicked the irons.</p> +<p class="pnext">"Better release me," he said with sincere directness. "It'll go mighty +hard, Marr, as it is. A little more and you will swing as sure as there +is a law in this sea. I don't doubt that Eagan will manage to run you +down. It isn't the time of MacLane and the others whom you have +imitated."</p> +<p class="pnext">"Confound you and Eagan—the stool! He don't know my course."</p> +<p class="pnext">"He knows you gammed that Japanese sealer off Rat Island. That's almost +enough to know. I'd advise you to swing to Dutch Pass, surrender to the +port officer there, and get off light."</p> +<p class="pnext">Marr whipped out a string of imprecations. "I'm a hard man!" he finished +by saying. "I brook no interference. You'll go aft and into a strong +room, where you'll stay for the balance of the voyage, eh, Mr. +Whitehouse?"</p> +<p class="pnext">"This cabin won't 'old 'im," the mate declared, fumbling with the lock. +"E's too blym near the crew and the steerage. The starboard room aft the +cross alleyway is the place for our friend here."</p> +<p class="pnext">"It's too darned good!" exclaimed Marr. "Stand up, Stirling. We'll lead +you to your new home."</p> +<p class="pnext">Stirling was of two minds. There was scant chance for resistance as he +twisted and untwisted the handcuff chain. He glanced about the cabin. +The objects of personal value most certainly would be stolen by the crew +or the galley crowd, and he prized a few of these beyond price.</p> +<p class="pnext">"I want my things," he said in cool resignation. "Let me bundle up a few +geegaws and I'll come along. It'll take me five minutes."</p> +<p class="pnext">Marr tapped his side pocket suggestively. "Go ahead," he said, backing +from the cabin and glancing meaningly toward Whitehouse. "Five minutes, +you get. No more! Take off his cuffs."</p> +<p class="pnext">The two seamen stood between the cabin door and the rail of the ship, +and whispered each to the other, but Stirling could not catch their +words. He stood erect, turned slowly, and reached under the mattress as +Marr gripped Whitehouse by the arm and pointed toward the horizon.</p> +<p class="pnext">Stirling's hands came away with the little revolver which the girl had +passed in to him. This he thrust down between his collar and neck, and +its chill sent a remembered thrill through his body.</p> +<p class="pnext">Whitehouse stuck his head within the doorway. "Be deuced quick habout +hit!" he snarled. "Get your traps and come along. There's a smudge o' +smoke to windward."</p> +<p class="pnext">"Glad of that!" said Stirling, stooping on one knee and reaching for his +dunnage bag. "I hope it's the <em class="italics">Bear</em> or the <em class="italics">Corwin</em> or the cutter we +saw going for the Arctic. She's about due back."</p> +<p class="pnext">"Bally fine chance!" Whitehouse snickered. "More likely she's a blubber +hunter tryin' out. It's more than likely."</p> +<p class="pnext">Stirling knew better than this. No ships in the Bering whaled for oil; +that pursuit was confined to Southern seas.</p> +<p class="pnext">Marr was plainly nervous as he led Stirling toward the after part of the +<em class="italics">Pole Star</em>, and kept glancing to the south and west. He halted on the +poop steps and stared downward.</p> +<p class="pnext">Whitehouse followed Stirling. The mate had motioned the crew to one +side, and they had gathered in the waist, jeering as the trio passed +them. They, too, were nervous. The smudge of smoke had widened to a +splotch which streaked the horizon; a ship of some kind was dashing +parallel to the course taken by the <em class="italics">Pole Star</em>.</p> +<p class="pnext">The chase was on.</p> +<p class="pnext">Stirling hitched his dunnage bag under his left arm and turned as he +reached the quarter-deck. His eyes were the best upon the whaler, and he +knew every ship that came into Bering Sea. He threw all his power into +determining the nature of the fast-flying stranger, then he smiled +slowly. She was the <em class="italics">Bear</em>. A vague sense of the position of the masts +and the rake of the funnel told him that the redoubtable revenue cutter +had received Eagan's message from St. Paul Island. She was coming with +the speed of the wind, and was not more than seven knots astern.</p> +<p class="pnext">Marr realized that Stirling had detected the name of the pursuer, and +his face clouded. He shouted an order to the wheelsman, then sprang to +the speaking tube which led down to the engine room. A volcano of smoke +belched from the <em class="italics">Pole Star's</em> funnel. She swerved like a skater on ice, +and the deck planks vibrated and trembled. A bellow of rage and defiance +came from the crew at the change of course; they lined the rail and +stared over the sparkling sea, shaking their grimy fists and calling +down anathemas.</p> +<p class="pnext">"Come on," cried Whitehouse into Stirling's ear. "Get down to your +cabin. It'll be a blym long time before that revenue ship gets in range +of us. I think we are the faster."</p> +<p class="pnext">Stirling followed the mate through the cabin companion and down to an +alleyway. At the starboard end of this Whitehouse inserted a key in a +lock and slid open a door, motioning inside with a jerk of his thumb.</p> +<p class="pnext">The Ice Pilot found himself in a small stateroom which was trimmed with +maple and white tiling. He dropped his dunnage bag as the mate closed +the door and turned the bolt, and his eyes roamed about the cabin.</p> +<p class="pnext">The single porthole, set deep in the double skin of the ship, was +brass-rimmed and no larger than a small dinner plate. It could be opened +by turning two bronze wing screws, and the view through it was upon a +patch of water, with swift-flowing ice darting by.</p> +<p class="pnext">"Prison or palace?" he said as he turned and studied the cabin, swaying +with the motion of the ship. The list was slightly to port. Some sail +had been spread to catch a light breeze which had sprung up with the +sun. The deck overhead resounded with gliding steps; Marr and the mate +were doing everything possible to hold their speed.</p> +<p class="pnext">The cabin's furnishings were yachtlike and serviceable. The bunk was +covered with a hair mattress and an eiderdown counterpane. Over it were +two brass racks for luggage and dunnage, and on the opposite wall a +washbowl and towel rack could be folded into a seat. Pictures were +strewed about, which were all marines painted by a decorator of merit.</p> +<p class="pnext">Stirling glanced from one to the other. Tropic scenes brought to mind +the incongruity of their latitude—the <em class="italics">Pole Star</em> was hustling from +the equator as fast as steam could drive her. Her last course was toward +the barren land of Siberia and the upper headland of the Gulf of Anadir. +It was terra incognita to most seamen and all save a few whale-ships or +traders.</p> +<p class="pnext">Stirling examined the lock of his door. It was far stronger than the one +in the galley cabin, and had been set within the wood and mortised so +that only a small, flat keyhole showed.</p> +<p class="pnext">He bent his head and listened. A step had glided along the alleyway. It +was repeated in shuffling motion, going from starboard to port and back +again across the ship. Whitehouse had left a seaman on guard.</p> +<p class="pnext">Stirling stood erect and squared his shoulders, towering almost to the +dunnage-racks over the white bunk. His eyes hardened as he glanced from +the green-filled porthole to the door and back. The cabin was a secure +prison, as Marr had said. It would require considerable ingenuity to +escape from it. The sentry on guard was sure to be armed with one of the +sealing rifles; he would be changed each watch.</p> +<p class="pnext">The ship hurtled onward toward the Siberian coast. The screw thrashed +astern, bit deeply into the waves, and thrashed again—each time the +foam boiled astern the ship trembled and racked.</p> +<p class="pnext">Bells clanged; shouts sounded; running feet were overhead; blocks +creaked; the wind freshened and called for more canvas. The menace +astern crept up to a four-mile range. A gun boomed across the wild +waste of Northern waters. A shot fell to windward; another followed. +Then, and slowly, the grip of the pursuer was shaken off. Superspeed, a +fair wind, and a straining stokehold crew, made the slight difference.</p> +<p class="pnext">Stirling frowned as he sensed that the <em class="italics">Bear</em> was being distanced. He +opened the porthole glass and pressed his face to the aperture. He could +see little save following seas and ice floes. The revenue cutter was +somewhere astern. Her guns were silent; this meant that the range had +increased to useless distance.</p> +</div> +<div class="level-2 section" id="chapter-xixa-toast-from-marr"> +<h2 class="level-2 pfirst section-title title"><a class="toc-backref pginternal" href="#id20">CHAPTER XIX—A TOAST FROM MARR</a></h2> +<p class="pfirst">It was sundown and six bells upon the <em class="italics">Pole Star</em>, when the lock +clicked, and Whitehouse entered.</p> +<p class="pnext">"Well, old man," he said, boastfully, "we've turned the trick. Night's +coming on and the <em class="italics">Bear</em> is 'ull down. This is a regular king's +yacht—speed of the best, and seaworthy."</p> +<p class="pnext">"It won't help you—in the end. How are you going to get out of the +Bering?"</p> +<p class="pnext">"I'll leave that to Captain Marr. I just dropped in to see if you 'ad +been fed. I don't nurse any 'ard feelings. I forgive my enemies, I do."</p> +<p class="pnext">In a way, Whitehouse spoke the truth. Stirling had always held a slight +liking for the English mate, who was one of England's outcasts—one who +had left his country for his country's good. He had the roving +disposition of the British, forgave quickly, and hated only for a short +period of time.</p> +<p class="pnext">"You're about the best of the bunch," said Stirling, feeling his temple +where the belaying pin had struck. "I hold being knocked out against +you, but that is all. Why don't you play like a man, which you are, and +prevail on Marr to abandon his useless expedition? The entire shipping +world will be searching for him. You haven't as much chance of escaping +as a thief in a crowded street."</p> +<p class="pnext">"That's when the thief escapes," Whitehouse said.</p> +<p class="pnext">"I'll take the regular galley mess of food," Stirling abruptly remarked.</p> +<p class="pnext">The mate nodded. "All right," he said, backing to the door and standing +in the alleyway. "All right, old man. No 'ard feelings?"</p> +<p class="pnext">Stirling allowed the shadow of a smile to creep across his lips. He eyed +the cockney with a calculating expression, thinking swiftly and to one +point. "Where are we heading?" he asked.</p> +<p class="pnext">"Siberia. We 'ave a nice little cove picked out."</p> +<p class="pnext">"In the Gulf of Anadir?"</p> +<p class="pnext">"There or thereabouts."</p> +<p class="pnext">"Marr don't know that coast."</p> +<p class="pnext">"The second engineer does. 'E was with the De Long expedition. Says it's +a bloomin' fine shore all the woiy to the mouth of the Lena."</p> +<p class="pnext">"Fine is right!" said Stirling with a smile, sitting down on his bunk +and crossing his legs. "It's barren and death-haunted. One thing——"</p> +<p class="pnext">Whitehouse paused with the key in his hand.</p> +<p class="pnext">"There are revolutionists at that point," said Stirling. "Marr should be +careful where he puts in."</p> +<p class="pnext">"They won't bother us."</p> +<p class="pnext">"I'm not so sure. They would cheat a cheater any time."</p> +<p class="pnext">Whitehouse flushed. "A cheater?"</p> +<p class="pnext">"That's what you and Marr are! Cheaters! You raided the rookeries. Your +judge will be the retribution which governs all wrongdoing. Your own +heart and soul rebel against what you have done."</p> +<p class="pnext">Whitehouse disappeared from the opening, and Stirling could hear him +giving instructions to the sentry. Footfalls sounded going up the +companion and along the quarter-deck, and then the mate came back to the +door and leaned against the chamfer. He rubbed his long red nose with a +reflective finger.</p> +<p class="pnext">"I'm in hit too bloomin' far to get out now, Stirling. I'll do my best +by you. Do you want to get away at the mouth of the Anadir? I can fix +that."</p> +<p class="pnext">Stirling made a slow calculation on his fingers. He glanced upward +toward the deck and furrowed his brows. "The Gulf," he said, dropping +his glance and staring at Whitehouse, "is about three thousand miles +from any sort of civilization. I think I'll stay on board—a prisoner."</p> +<p class="pnext">The mate nodded good-naturedly and turned toward a Kanaka, who brought a +tray upon which were two tins of stew and a steaming pot of coffee.</p> +<p class="pnext">Stirling took these and set them at the end of the bunk. Whitehouse +shrugged his shoulders, examined the lock with a smirk, and closed the +door. The bolt clicked.</p> +<p class="pnext">The Kanaka resumed his sentry duties, but Stirling had secured a good +glance at him. He was an old Arctic Ocean harpooner, and had once +sailed on a whaler which had been gammed by the Ice Pilot. He was the +weak link in the chain, concluded Stirling. A native would be more +likely to listen to reason than any member of the <em class="italics">Pole Star's</em> crew. +There was a latent loyalty for the right in every Kanaka's breast. Many +had been brought up by missionaries.</p> +<p class="pnext">"With a dainty friend somewhere aft, and a sentry like that harpooner, +I've a fighting chance," said Stirling, leaning over the savoury stew.</p> +<p class="pnext">The pockets of his pea-jacket contained a few crumbs of tobacco and a +pipe. He set down the tray with the empty tins upon the deck, leaned +back, and lighted a match.</p> +<p class="pnext">The puffs of smoke he blew toward the porthole were like salvos of +shrapnel. The situation had cleared during the hours since leaving St. +Paul Island and the rookeries. Whitehouse had become genial; the +grumbling voices of the crew were more or less stilled; the little +skipper was in a desperate position.</p> +<p class="pnext">Stirling sensed the general direction of the swiftly driving poacher. +The cant to port, the general steadiness of the wind in the Bering, the +drifting floes—all these were points by which he guided his deductions.</p> +<p class="pnext">Siberia and the open Gulf of Anadir should be reached by noon of the day +to come. This would mean little less than twelve steaming hours. The +Island of St. Lawrence lay some few leagues to the northward. The +<em class="italics">Bear</em>, provided she had not given up the pursuit, might search the +shores of that island. There were two native settlements on the western +coast, and these were a likely refuge for poachers and those who lived +beyond the law.</p> +<p class="pnext">There came then to Stirling's straining ears the soft sound of a piano. +He set his pipe on a rack at the head of the bunk and moved stealthily +toward the door. Pressing his ear to the panel of this, he listened. He +heard the shuffling of the sentry's feet, and above this sound lilted a +thin, pure note which could come only from a woman's throat. It rose, +fell, and was raised once more into a remembered song:</p> +<blockquote><div> +<div class="line-block"> +<div class="line"> +"Whither, oh, splendid ship, thy white sails crowding,</div> +<div class="line-block"> +<div class="line"> +Leaning across the bosom of the urgent West,</div> +</div> +<div class="line"> +Thou fearest nor sea rising, nor sky clouding,</div> +<div class="line-block"> +<div class="line"> +Whither away, fair rover, and what thy quest?"</div> +</div> +</div> +</div></blockquote> +<p class="pfirst">Stirling breathed with deep intakes of close breath. He caught the swing +of the words as if they were attuned to his own thoughts, and they +steadied him in his determination to remain aboard the <em class="italics">Pole Star</em> and +ascertain what manner of woman or girl lived in the after ship. She was +related to Marr—that much was evident. He wondered if she were his +wife, sister, or ward. One of the three would explain her being aboard. +None would explain why she seemed to be almost a prisoner.</p> +<p class="pnext">He listened for more music, and now and then the piano throbbed a +vibrant note. At last it was still. There alone remained the swish of +the waves, the creak of blocks, the sliding footfalls on the +quarter-deck, to mark their passage.</p> +<p class="pnext">The last light of day died from the surface of the waters, and the first +bright star lay horizon down. It came up grandly out of the east and +from the direction of Alaska, shining through the open porthole like an +eye of promise. Stirling rose from the seat he had taken on the bunk and +turned out the electric light. He leaned back and studied this star, +finding solace and resolve in its white rays.</p> +<p class="pnext">Daybreak, at the early hour of two bells, brought Stirling out of his +dreams and into the grip of a coming dawn. He washed himself and glanced +ruefully at his unshaven features, but there was no way to remedy the +matter. Seamen in the Bering and Arctic often went for an entire season +without shaving.</p> +<p class="pnext">He thought of the girl and her song as he idled through the hour which +followed. She had grown closer to him in some manner. It was as if there +were two prisoners on one ship. Her voice had contained the vibrant note +of anxiety. She had asked in a manner which he could fathom, where the +tall poacher was going? She, too, was gripped by the mystery.</p> +<p class="pnext">The first glimpse of the haze-surrounded sun, which rose over the Bering +Sea, was the magnet that drew Stirling away from his thoughts of the +girl and to the open porthole. The sea was specked and laced with drift +ice and whale slick. Old "grandpas" floated by—grimy and honeycombed +from the action of the brine. Walruses and seals dived from these +ancient ice clusters. Birds wheeled away from the course of the +fast-driving poacher.</p> +<p class="pnext">The course had been changed overnight, this Stirling detected with a +guilty start as he noted the position of the sun. They were now well +within the Gulf of Anadir, and the ice which floated about had just been +detached from the shore. Its surface was partly snow.</p> +<p class="pnext">Seven bells brought the first glimpse of land to Stirling. A dark +promontory lifted into the Arctic sky, and this was crowned with a hedge +of Northern pines. Green moss grew down the folds of the headland. A +tundra stuck out from the lower silt. They were skirting the wild coast +of Anadir.</p> +<p class="pnext">"Siberia," said Stirling. "What a land!" He turned from the porthole and +studied the interior of the cabin. The little revolver which the girl +had given to him was still within the grip of his garter. He reached +downward and loosened it, examining its butt and silver-plated barrel. +It was loaded.</p> +<p class="pnext">He eyed the door leading to the alleyway, and pocketed the revolver as +steps sounded outside.</p> +<p class="pnext">Whitehouse shouted in through the keyhole: "Hold steady and wait, old +man. I'll see that you're well fed by eight bells. No 'ard feelings, +eh?"</p> +<p class="pnext">Stirling did not answer. He moved about, however, and otherwise let the +mate know that he was still aboard the ship.</p> +<p class="pnext">Eight bells did not bring the promised food. Instead, the ship slowed +down, and at last glided across the sea with her screw still.</p> +<p class="pnext">The sound of running feet came to Stirling who sprang to the porthole +and glanced out. They were rounding a rocky wall whose fissures gushed +white from descending torrents of snow water. The ship ported, steadied +in slow circling, and entered a mountain-encompassed harbour as lovely +and as lonely as any in all the world.</p> +<p class="pnext">Her taper yards scraped the stones to starboard and port, her keel once +touched a sandy split, but she went on by the billowed pressure of the +wind on the canvas. The way opened to a glen in solid granite and +schist, and here the anchor chain was let go with a rusty clank. The +stern swung, almost touching a narrow shelf, up from which an agile man +could climb, or down to which he might lower himself.</p> +<p class="pnext">A jubilant voice rolled throughout the sheltered ship. It came from +Whitehouse, who had danced upon the quarter-deck planks in his glee. +"All 'ands aft to spice the main brace!"</p> +<p class="pnext">Stirling understood this last order. The crew, the engine-room force, +the stokehold gang, and the steerage crowd were invited to empty a case +of whisky.</p> +<p class="pnext">Marr's toast to his fellow conspirators was given with a bold attempt +to hold their confidence. "Drink hearty, mates!" he exclaimed. "Drink to +the eternal confusion of the revenue cutters!"</p> +<p class="pnext">Stirling hardly smiled, but scraped his pockets and found some few +crumbs of tobacco. These he pressed into his pipe and lighted with a +sulphur match. "I'll smoke to that promise," he said, simply. "A bear +never lets go when its grip fastens."</p> +</div> +<div class="level-2 section" id="chapter-xxthe-moving-shadows"> +<h2 class="level-2 pfirst section-title title"><a class="toc-backref pginternal" href="#id21">CHAPTER XX—THE MOVING SHADOWS</a></h2> +<p class="pfirst">Landlocked and secure, the crew of the <em class="italics">Pole Star</em> worked out the day by +odd jobs about the deck. Stirling heard them swabbing down, and caught +the cockney accent of the mate raised in cheerful encouragement as the +skipper sent forward more grog.</p> +<p class="pnext">The long Arctic day died slowly out over the waters of the Bering and +the Gulf of Anadir. The waves which beat upon the rocky headlands, +buttressing the tiny harbour, curled inward and ran with seething foam +up a shelving beach.</p> +<p class="pnext">Marr had made one trip to the outer sea. He returned and called +Whitehouse to the poop. Their voices were raised incautiously, and +Stirling heard the <em class="italics">Bear</em> mentioned. The boastful laugh which followed +showed that the revenue cutter had gone by without being aware of the +harbour's entrance. The view from the sea was one of solid rock and +towering headland.</p> +<p class="pnext">It was at five bells that Stirling heard steps within the alleyway. The +sentry had been sleeping on duty, and he woke as Marr's voice broke the +stillness of the ship. The lock of his door clicked, and Stirling +switched on his electric light and waited, his breast exposed, showing +the hairy massiveness of his shoulders and the supple muscles beneath.</p> +<p class="pnext">Marr came in with cautious eyes, glanced about the cabin, stared at the +porthole thoughtfully, then lifted his chin to Stirling. "How are things +with you?" Marr asked. "Getting along all right?"</p> +<p class="pnext">"As well as could be expected on this criminal ship!"</p> +<p class="pnext">Marr frowned and sat down on the edge of the bunk. "Don't take it that +way," he said, fingering the horn buttons of his natty pea-jacket. "Come +over with us and see the thing through. We'll wait around here a few +days more, then——"</p> +<p class="pnext">The pause was suggestive. Stirling backed slowly to the skin of the ship +and lowered his hands to his sides. "Then what?" he asked.</p> +<p class="pnext">"Ah, there is a wide world to roam in. There are many ports of call."</p> +<p class="pnext">Stirling clenched his fists; his eyes were levelled toward the assured +skipper. "I think you had better get out of here!" Stirling said, +sharply. "I don't want to listen to suggestions from you. Brave men do +not raid the rookeries. They don't lock up a man for doing his duty."</p> +<p class="pnext">Marr smiled, and Stirling studied him. The little skipper had come into +the cabin for some reason other than the one he had stated; he was far +too genial and condescending.</p> +<p class="pnext">"What do you want with me?" the Pilot inquired. "Out with it and then +leave. I'll trouble you to allow me this small space for myself. It's +not much to ask."</p> +<p class="pnext">"I want your good will, Stirling. The fact of the matter is this——"</p> +<p class="pnext">Stirling saw the smile vanish from the skipper's lips, and the face +which peered out from the shadow of the bunk was not nearly so assured.</p> +<p class="pnext">"The fact is this," repeated Marr: "there's a person aboard who is +interested in you. I have made the argument that you will join us sooner +or later. I am going to make it to your interest to join us."</p> +<p class="pnext">"Who do you mean?"</p> +<p class="pnext">"That I can't say now! This person, however, believes that you will be +very dangerous to my interests in the future. In other words, you are +standing out for the foolish laws of the sea. If you persist in this +stand, there can be only one finish to you."</p> +<p class="pnext">"What finish is that?"</p> +<p class="pnext">"You'll either be marooned on a barren island or tapped on the head and +dropped overside. You can't expect to squeal on us."</p> +<p class="pnext">"How about Eagan?"</p> +<p class="pnext">"He saw and guessed too much, but he will not see what is coming. I have +a plan to avoid the <em class="italics">Bear</em> and the other cutters. It will take us to +strange seas and glorious coasts. We have seal pelts enough to make +every man aboard rich; we can get more at Disko and Copper Island. All +hands shall share alike, and spread to the four winds."</p> +<p class="pnext">Stirling saw the drift of the little skipper's argument. He was offering +a bribe for silence and coöperation. "I'll never change my views," he +said, stoutly. "You can't get away with that raid or the pelts. Right +will beat you. Public opinion is the strongest force I know. You have +been moving contrary to it."</p> +<p class="pnext">Marr rose from the bunk and glanced at the door, outside of which the +sentry was pacing energetically back and forth. "You're doomed," +whispered the skipper. "I gave you a chance. This person cannot help +you. You'd better consider the matter carefully."</p> +<p class="pnext">The captain's tone had changed; he was far too sure of himself to suit +Stirling. It was possible that he would not be allowed to see the dawn.</p> +<p class="pnext">"Who is this person who is interested in me?" asked Stirling with +candour. "Whitehouse?"</p> +<p class="pnext">"No; not the mate. You perhaps think he is your friend, but he is with +me to the finish of this passage. The rest of the crew are with me. None +of them wants a squealer somewhere ashore where he can harm us. They're +all for sewing you in a sack and dropping you overboard."</p> +<p class="pnext">Had the skipper snapped out his threats or otherwise acted in a bullying +manner, Stirling would have felt less concern, but there was that in the +icy tones and matter-of-fact statements which chilled red blood and +caused a presentiment to reach and grip at the heart.</p> +<p class="pnext">The two men stood in silence, then slowly turned and stared at each +other. Marr's eyes were the first to drop. He raised them again with an +effort. "I hate to finish you off," he said, without moving his lips, +"but it's got to be done. I've posted a second sentry on the poop. Both +have orders to shoot you down if you try to escape."</p> +<p class="pnext">"Who is the person?" repeated Stirling, like a child with but one +lesson.</p> +<p class="pnext">Marr glided toward the door and stood in the opening.</p> +<p class="pnext">"Who is the person?"</p> +<p class="pnext">The little skipper leaned forward and hissed his words as he said: +"You'll never see her! She wants me to spare you. I can't do it and live +on this earth. You know too much!"</p> +<p class="pnext">The door closed with a click. Marr was gone.</p> +<p class="pnext">Stirling's brain grew numb, and as the hot blood rushed to his cheeks, +he raised his hand and pressed his fingers against his throbbing +temples. He stared at the door with every muscle tense and eager. It +would be possible to break through to the alleyway. There, however, he +would meet with the Kanaka sentry, and the native was far too stolid to +be moved by a sudden rush.</p> +<p class="pnext">The ship rocked slightly with the movement of the inner waves which had +risen over the early hours of the night. A murmur came to Stirling's +ears, and he crossed the cabin, pressing his face against the brass rim +of the porthole. A rocky wall, seamed here and there with dark +fissures, reared a barrier, while the <em class="italics">Pole Star</em> swung at her anchor +chain with her stern toward the opening to the gulf.</p> +<p class="pnext">Stirling heard the pacing of the sentry on deck, and above the sound of +his sliding foot he sensed the voices of men aft of the canvas barrier. +Marr and the mate were in whispered consultation.</p> +<p class="pnext">Whitehouse allowed his voice to rise above its ordinary pitch. He was +insisting upon some matter which was of vital importance to him, and <em class="italics">it +concerned making away with the only spy in their midst</em>. Marr's answer +was unheard by Stirling, but it quieted the mate as if a hand had +smoothed out a difficulty with clever, cunning fingers. Marr was doubly +dangerous. He held close control of his brain and tongue.</p> +<p class="pnext">Stirling paced back and forth within the narrow confines of his cabin. +He had measured the porthole with the span of his hand, and knew it was +far too small for escape. It could not well be enlarged by any tool in +his possession. He turned toward the door as a last resort. Its stout +panels and heavy oaken planks called for super efforts, but they could +be cut, providing the sentry dropped off into sleep. Stirling waited and +listened for this to happen.</p> +<p class="pnext">Midnight and eight bells found him crouched with his ear close to the +lower starboard panel. The strength to right a wrong and fight to the +bitter end had crept over him. He was a match for Marr and half of the +others of the crew. He feared no five men aboard the ship if the fight +were to be with fists.</p> +<p class="pnext">A clean life and steady purpose had often accomplished wonders. He +reviewed the entire situation, and summed it up in a slow, firm way. +Marr and the mate and the others of the crew had taken a lesson from +Eagan. They were in the poaching matter far too deeply to back out, +since the spoil was 'tween decks, and was also waiting on the Copper +Islands.</p> +<p class="pnext">"Better snatch a delusion from a woman," said Stirling, grimly, "than +deny a Bering Sea crew the right to poach."</p> +<p class="pnext">He thought of Marr's parting words, the lack of venom in which showed +that the end would come swiftly and after deliberate preparations. His +one hope was the woman who had pleaded for his life. She had to be +reckoned with—perhaps she was resourceful. Her eyes were wide ones and +undying in their intensity.</p> +<p class="pnext">Stirling moved toward the wall and reached for the electric light, then +dropped his hand without turning it on. He found the bunk, searched +under the seaweed mattress, and the cold thrill of the tiny revolver +nerved him as he held it in the palm of his right hand. After all, he +thought, there was a man's life or two in the silver-plated barrel. A +bold rush when the door was opened, a stream of lead, and the open deck +might offer possibilities.</p> +<p class="pnext">The night was dark. There was one fissure leading up from the shelving +beach to the higher tableland. If he reached this he would be free. +Siberia and a wide sky was the vaulting place for a possible revenge.</p> +<p class="pnext">He stepped toward the porthole and pressed his forehead against the cold +metal rim, his eyes slowly making out the details of the harbour and the +shore. They grew keen and penetrating.</p> +<p class="pnext">A gushing and tossing stream of creamy water issued from the face of the +rock. It silvered down and flattened out where the waves lapped up a +shelving shore. The roar of this waterfall was faint and musical, like a +melody set in a dream.</p> +<p class="pnext">Stirling remained at the porthole, looking toward the shore. His eyes +grew intent, and now he made out details which had at first been +overlooked. Crags and moss were apparent; a shelf grew from a dark line +to a possible passageway for an agile man. He traced the course of this +and saw that it vanished over the extreme edge of the highest cliff +where the dark stone stood out against the star-scattered sky.</p> +<p class="pnext">"I can climb that," he said with conviction. "That is a road to +Siberia."</p> +<p class="pnext">He listened as a sound floated from the quarter-deck. Steps were +directly over him, and a shadow fell along the surface of the heaving +waters, a shadow slight and elfin.</p> +<p class="pnext">Dangling before his startled eyes, and partly blotting out the view of +the open night, there had appeared an object which was fastened on the +end of a loose line.</p> +<p class="pnext">As it swung back and forth a foot scraped close to the ship's rail, and +a low voice called with musical timbre.</p> +<p class="pnext">Stirling reached out through the porthole and drew in the line. He +untied the packet, which was knotted by a square knot, and waited. The +line was drawn upward; a belaying pin creaked in the pinrail; the steps +sounded again. Then they seemed to be aft.</p> +<p class="pnext">Backing from the ship's skin, and feeling behind with his left hand, +Stirling found the edge of the bunk and sat down with heavy thoughts. He +toyed with the packet and weighed it by moving his right hand up and +down in the gloom.</p> +<p class="pnext">Unbinding it slowly, he scented for the first time the aroma of +heliotrope. Once before he had detected that perfume. That was when the +girl had appeared at the galley porthole and handed in the revolver.</p> +<p class="pnext">He removed a lace handkerchief, thrust it into his shirt pocket, and +smiled at the practical present which had been lowered from the poop. +The offering was to the point and suggestive. He counted twenty-five +tiny cartridges which most certainly were designed for the little +silver-plated revolver.</p> +<p class="pnext">"I like her," he said, thrusting the bullets within his shirt. "She's +true blue and thinks of the right things. Likewise, she's a daughter of +the sea!"</p> +<p class="pnext">He rose and moved slowly toward the porthole. The outside now seemed +nearer, for some reason; the friend on deck had warmed his blood. She +was standing by in case of a blow.</p> +<p class="pnext">The ship's bell was struck with a muffled marlinespike as Stirling stood +in patient idleness. He counted the strokes, and heard a far closing of +a hatch, sign that the anchor watch had changed. The sentry in the +alleyway spoke to another who came to take his place. The new arrival +tested the door and otherwise acted as if he would remain awake over the +time allotted to his duties.</p> +<p class="pnext">Suddenly, and in an unwarned manner, Stirling grew aware that ashore a +shadow moved along the higher shelf of the cliff. This shadow was +followed by a second and then a third. Men in ragged guise were +descending the trail that led from the Siberian tableland to the +land-locked harbour wherein lay the <em class="italics">Pole Star</em>.</p> +<p class="pnext">The descending forms disappeared, as they entered a chasm in the rocky +wall. They came into view again and stood upon a shelf which was +directly over the taper jib boom of the ship. They pointed with swaying +arms, first at the <em class="italics">Pole Star</em>, and then toward the open Gulf of Anadir. +It was evident to Stirling that they never had been in the same locality +before.</p> +<p class="pnext">He drew upon his imagination as he tried to fathom the reason for the +ragged visitors. They were not natives or Eskimos. Their matted hair and +bold, staring eyes betokened Russians.</p> +<p class="pnext">The leading figure issued a silent order by pointing upward, whereupon a +man climbed the trail, disappeared in the chasm, and reappeared upon +the shelf which marked the tableland. He vanished against the velvet of +the sky, and a slow minute passed. There came then a score of heads over +the edge, and a blurred mass of outcasts started down the pathway with +the messenger leading them.</p> +<p class="pnext">Stirling had seen enough to realize that the ship was in danger. Out of +the barren land of Siberia figures had crept in an endeavour to reach +the sea. They bore all the evidence of a terrible journey, and were in +numbers sufficient to capture the ship.</p> +<p class="pnext">No sound came from the deck of the poacher; the sentry at the door was +leaning against the barrel of his rifle; the anchor watch slept +profoundly. Fair game lay in the cove, and the hour was close when its +enemies would strike.</p> +<p class="pnext">"Let them come," said Stirling. "I'll not warn Marr. He brought it on +himself."</p> +</div> +<div class="level-2 section" id="chapter-xxithrough-the-porthole"> +<h2 class="level-2 pfirst section-title title"><a class="toc-backref pginternal" href="#id22">CHAPTER XXI—THROUGH THE PORTHOLE</a></h2> +<p class="pfirst">In a maze of doubt and resolution Stirling stared out over the dark +harbour and saw that the band of outcasts had reached the shelving beach +and were making preparations to swim to the ship.</p> +<p class="pnext">He turned away and glanced toward the locked door. The sentry stirred +restlessly; his gun's butt was lifted and dropped to the deck. A hacking +cough sounded.</p> +<p class="pnext">Steps glided across the poop from the forward rail to the cabin +companion; a slide shot back; the sentry called and was answered. Then a +key clicked in the lock of the door, and Marr stood in the gloom. Back +of the little captain loomed two of the galley crowd. There was no mercy +in their hard, level glances.</p> +<p class="pnext">"Come on, Stirling," said the captain. "Step out and come with us. +You're on trial. Search him, men."</p> +<p class="pnext">Stirling backed step by step to the bunk, and secured the tiny revolver +firmly in his palm. His broad thumb pressed through the trigger guard, +and the feel of the cold metal decided him. He folded his arms, thrust +the gun through to his skin, and allowed it to drop down.</p> +<p class="pnext">The search, as Marr switched on the electric light, was done in haste. A +Kanaka harpooner ran clumsy hands over Stirling's pockets. He turned and +shook his head.</p> +<p class="pnext">"Me find nothing."</p> +<p class="pnext">"Bring him to the galley!" Marr ordered. "Watch him, too."</p> +<p class="pnext">The sentry brought up the rear. Stirling breathed with deep intakes of +the keen air as he crossed the quarter-deck and descended the lee-poop +ladder. He entered the galley cabin with his head thrown back and his +eyes blazing.</p> +<p class="pnext">Whitehouse sat at the head of the table, and about the mate was gathered +all of the afterguard and three of the crew. They had been drinking from +square faces of gin. The empty bottles and glasses littered the sea +racks; sour limes were scattered about.</p> +<p class="pnext">The two engineers sat in one corner of the cabin with their feet +sprawled along the deck and their eyes bleared and baleful. They had +been loudest in calling for the death of Stirling, since the seal pelts +within the forehold of the <em class="italics">Pole Star</em> constituted a king's ransom. Each +man's share would be well up in the thousands. They saw no reason for +taking the slightest chances.</p> +<p class="pnext">Baldwin leered at the Ice Pilot and nudged his companion. "Shootin' is +too good," Baldwin said. "I'd like to put the squealer in a fire box and +turn on forced draft—if we had forced draft."</p> +<p class="pnext">Stirling faced the two men with composure. The possession of the little +revolver, the knowledge that a hungry, ragged horde was even then +approaching the ship, held him confident. Much might happen within the +space of minutes. The drunken afterguard would be no match for the +outcasts.</p> +<p class="pnext">Marr cleared his throat, moved to the door, and, closing it, turned with +sudden fire and anger. "We've been talking all of an hour," he said, +bitterly. "Time's up! It'll be daybreak before we do anything. We're all +together in this. What do you say we take a vote and decide. There's +just two things to do to him—cast him ashore, or drop him overboard."</p> +<p class="pnext">"And if you drop that lad," said Whitehouse, "see that there is a blym +big anchor spliced to 'is legs. 'E's a water dog, besides being a hard +hitter. 'E's dangerous—'e his!"</p> +<p class="pnext">"Him good man—dead!"</p> +<p class="pnext">Stirling turned and faced a Kanaka harpooner. "What have I ever done to +you?" he asked. "You know me. I've always treated you boys right. +Remember the <em class="italics">Beluga</em> and the <em class="italics">Karluk</em> and the <em class="italics">Norwhale</em>? You forget +easy. You've been filled with gin, and you are not yourself."</p> +<p class="pnext">"Me like hear 'em talk," the Kanaka said, with a sheepish grin.</p> +<p class="pnext">Marr saw the drift of affairs and assumed swift control. Stirling was +well thought of among the natives of the Siberian shore and the islands +of the Pacific. The simple-minded Kanakas could be easily influenced.</p> +<p class="pnext">"Have done!" the little skipper exclaimed. "If you're all for marooning +him, I'm satisfied. But——"</p> +<p class="pnext">The pause was doubly suggestive. Marr glanced at the two engineers and +Whitehouse. "You know the consequences," Marr said. "This fellow will +bob up some day with all our names and with two or three revenue men +behind him. There's no getting away from that fact. It may be in +Shanghai and it may be in Frisco."</p> +<p class="pnext">"Or Liverpool," Whitehouse suggested. "I'm going to Liverpool and +Birkenhead when I get the bloomin' pile from the pelties. What's to +prevent 'im bobbin' hup there?"</p> +<p class="pnext">"Nothing!" said Marr.</p> +<p class="pnext">"Then let's take a deuced vote. I 'ate's to do hit, but I votes for +walkin' the plank."</p> +<p class="pnext">"Same here," said the two engineers in one voice.</p> +<p class="pnext">"You, Crinko?"</p> +<p class="pnext">The Kanaka's face softened as he leered at Marr, and the bronze of his +sea-beaten features took on a yellowish tinge. He turned and smiled +openly toward Stirling, who stood with folded arms and the weight of his +body resting on the balls of his feet.</p> +<p class="pnext">"Me like 'em," the native said. "Me no vote. He good man—sometimes."</p> +<p class="pnext">Marr caught the note in the simple tones and frowned. He felt himself +slipping. There were two more Kanakas in the cabin who would follow the +big harpooner; the three together might prove troublesome.</p> +<p class="pnext">"You're out!" Marr snapped. "Now the next. How do you vote, Slim?"</p> +<p class="pnext">Slim was the leader of the stokehold and engine-room crew, which was +entirely under the influence of the two engineers. Marr smiled as six +cinder rats and oilers stood up from the seats they had taken about the +table and voted for Stirling's death. Each man had reached for a drink +of gin as his name was called.</p> +<p class="pnext">"That almost settles it," whispered Whitehouse, drunkenly. "Old horse, +you're gone. Hit's a 'ard, 'ard thing to do but we——"</p> +<p class="pnext">"But you're not going to do it!" broke in Stirling, backing toward the +door and crouching with his hand toward his right shoe. "You're only +drunk and full of false courage!"</p> +<p class="pnext">The blaze that sprang from Stirling's eyes simmered and darted across +the smoke-filled room. Each man felt the sudden power that flashed at +him; each leaned away for a second.</p> +<p class="pnext">"Get back!"</p> +<p class="pnext">Stirling crouched lower and shelved forward his massive shoulders. The +bulk of him seemed to fill the room. He was more than a fighting match +for the entire crew. They knew it with dawning intuition.</p> +<p class="pnext">Marr slyly placed a cool hand within the inner pocket of his pea-jacket, +and was drawing a gun when Stirling leaped the distance, hooked his +right elbow, and uppercut with vicious force. The blow would have +lifted the cabin deck. It hurled Marr over the table, and laid him +across the planks where he dropped unconscious.</p> +<p class="pnext">"Now the next!" shouted Stirling, backing away and lowering his fists to +his knees. "The next! Come on!"</p> +<p class="pnext">Baldwin, the engineer, watched the Ice Pilot's eyes, and in them he saw +the dying fire of rage turn to cool calculation. It was like gazing at +horizon-down ice, as the steely glint changed to cold gray. But the +glance was over the heads of the seamen who leaned upon the table. It +was toward on open porthole.</p> +<p class="pnext">Some intuition, stronger than the desire to murder, swept the crew. They +turned as one man and followed Stirling's steady gaze. They dropped +their chins and stared out through the porthole.</p> +<p class="pnext">"By the jumpin' bowheads!" Whitehouse screamed. "By Heaven, mates. Look! +Look!"</p> +<p class="pnext">Framed by the dull brass was the face of a whiskered Russian whose small +eyes surveyed the cabin greedily. A crash sounded at the door, shouts +rolled through the iron of the ship, and a grim struggle was begun at +once. The <em class="italics">Pole Star</em> had been captured by revolutionists.</p> +</div> +<div class="level-2 section" id="chapter-xxiialone-in-the-cabin"> +<h2 class="level-2 pfirst section-title title"><a class="toc-backref pginternal" href="#id23">CHAPTER XXII—ALONE IN THE CABIN</a></h2> +<p class="pfirst">The invaders, led by the same whiskered Russian who had peered through +the porthole, swept around the deck and crashed through the door leading +to the galley cabin.</p> +<p class="pnext">It was a mad wave of victory for them. They brought surprise and +determination as their allies, and were in great numbers. Already they +had mopped up the anchor watch and some of the crew who had climbed from +the forecastle.</p> +<p class="pnext">Stirling, rooted to the spot where he had faced his accusers, for the +first time in his life felt the grip of fear. He saw Whitehouse felled +with a descending swing of a giant club, and the second engineer +staggered toward the table with a knife through his breast.</p> +<p class="pnext">A Kanaka harpooner, whose gin-dulled brain refused to act, dashed into +the midst of the inpouring horde and went down, the centre of a wave of +infuriated invaders. One hooked-nose boat steerer, noted for his +mildness of manner, became crazed, snatched a harpoon from the wall of +the cabin, and drove it through a Russian's neck. He, too, was downed +and then killed with heavy clubs.</p> +<p class="pnext">This resistance stemmed the wave of Russians for a moment. Marr shouted +shrilly. He was answered by a Russian, who shouted instruction from the +doorway. Stones were hurled through the length of the cabin; capstan +bars were raised; the invaders faced the survivors, and prepared to +charge Stirling and the little skipper who had found common cause in +resistance.</p> +<p class="pnext">Mechanically, Stirling reached downward and grasped the tiny revolver, +though afterward he had no recollection of the action. The gun steadied +his nerves as he glanced at it, and then into the peering faces gathered +about the doorway and the after end of the cabin.</p> +<p class="pnext">He fired with coolness, and six jets of flame flashed across the table +and seared the faces before him. Russians went down as if poleaxed, +others shouted in pain, and two backed away covering their faces with +their arms.</p> +<p class="pnext">Stirling reloaded the revolver with clumsy fingers. The action was new +to him; the time was short. He wondered as he waited for coolness to +return how it happened that the cartridges were in his breast, since the +Kanaka had searched him in the after cabin. They had been overlooked.</p> +<p class="pnext">Marr coughed in the acrid mist and shouted out through a porthole. He +was answered by a Russian imprecation; a face peered in and a whale +lance darted through the opening. It missed the skipper by inches.</p> +<p class="pnext">He backed and touched Stirling's arm. "Kill them!" he cried. "Kill them, +Stirling!"</p> +<p class="pnext">The shout was a signal to the dock rats and sea scum who had crouched in +the gloom of the cabin. They advanced with heads lowered and rude +weapons snatched from the deck. One hurled a gin bottle into the face of +a Russian who stood half in and half out of the door. This sign of +defiance brought the wrath of the horde down upon the defenders. A +jagged rock hurtled through the porthole and crashed against the +electric dome in the ceiling. The falling glass tinkled upon the table, +and darkness blotted out Stirling's view of what followed. It was a +press of mad men who would not be denied, and he fired without knowing +whether he struck Russians or the remnant of the <em class="italics">Pole Star's</em> crew.</p> +<p class="pnext">He stepped back and felt about with his left hand. His fingers touched a +wall, and following this he came to the end of a table where he stumbled +over the body of a Kanaka. Rising, he worked forward and found the knob +of a door which led into the cook's kitchen. This door was locked, and +he bunched his shoulders for a crashing blow.</p> +<p class="pnext">The Russians had advanced in the gloom of the shambles and were feeling +about for Marr and the others of the crew who had escaped their +onslaught. Now and then a loud cry marked a victim. A Russian thrust +inward the smoking end of a torch made out of rope yarn. It flared and +died to a glow.</p> +<p class="pnext">Stirling stepped away from the door, lowered his shoulder, and lunged +forward with all the weight of his well-nourished body behind the blow. +He rebounded, crouched, lunged for a second time, and the door +splintered on the port side and tore loose from its chamfer.</p> +<p class="pnext">Hurtling through to the kitchen and stumbling over an assortment of +clanging pans, Stirling found the second door which led to the deck. +This, also, was locked. He crashed his foot against a lower panel, and +the wood splintered, making an opening sufficient to pass through. He +crawled out like a determined bear and stood erect, his great chest +rising and falling as he gulped the air of the night.</p> +<p class="pnext">Chaos ruled the after part of the ship, and heavy blows sounded forward +where the invaders were mopping out the forecastle. Bodies were hurtled +overside, the last cries of doomed men echoing and reëchoing among the +rocks of the shore and awakening the sea birds nested there.</p> +<p class="pnext">A deep silence followed the slaying of the crew. Stirling crouched in +the shelter of the galley house where the cook's pipe was thrust through +the wall, then turned his eyes and stared aft.</p> +<p class="pnext">The thought had come to him that the girl was alone in the cabin. Marr +had been seen last fighting Russians who had invaded the galley room, +and a show of resistance was still there. The lurking forms of men were +about the door, but the waist of the ship seemed filled with men who +had climbed aboard from out of the sea. These men were waiting for some +signal.</p> +<p class="pnext">It came with startling suddenness. Marr, the first engineer, and two +seamen burst through the doorway, shouting defiance, and plunged +straight for the poop and the shelter of the after cabins. One seaman +and engineer were felled and dragged to death. Marr and the second +seaman gained the poop steps, glanced forward, and vanished in the +direction of the cabin companion.</p> +<p class="pnext">This sally filled the ship with wild imprecations and cries, and +Stirling was swirled in a maze of doubt. The quarter-deck was shadowed +with climbing Russians; the forepeak and waist rocked with their feet as +they searched about for survivors.</p> +<p class="pnext">A thin tongue of flame from an after porthole burned through the night. +A rapid hail of lead from a rifle spattered along the deck and +splintered the woodwork. Marr had reached the ship's arsenal and was +firing from the break of the poop into the Russian horde. The situation +had changed during the period of seconds.</p> +<p class="pnext">Before he had time to gauge the battle, Stirling heard the rush of men +who were seeking safety behind the galley house and within the gloom of +the whaleboats on the port side. He raised his revolver and emptied it +along the deck. One shot went home; the others missed. He pocketed the +weapon, faced about, and darted for the lee shrouds which led up to the +crow's-nest. He then mounted the rail and climbed by the strength which +was in his arms.</p> +<p class="pnext">The vanguard of Russians leaped for his legs, but he drew himself up and +worked toward the crow's-nest with beating heart. He reached the Jacob's +ladder and went out instead of going through the lubber's hole. Here he +turned and stared downward; the deck seemed far away; a whizzing +belaying pin missed his head by many feet. He chuckled and touched his +face with his hand. Blood was there from some unnoticed wound.</p> +<p class="pnext">Whiskered faces showed through the gloom, and Stirling chuckled for a +second time and climbed swiftly to the crow's-nest. Dropping inside, he +pressed his chin to the edge of the nest and glanced toward the rocky +wall which loomed over the ship. Other Russians were descending the +trail that led to the shelving beach, and he watched a score more who +were swimming through the dark waters of the harbour.</p> +<p class="pnext">Suddenly all the fight went out of him, as water leaves a sponge. The +odds were far too great—Marr and the seaman and the girl comprised the +afterguard. They were well armed, but the invaders were in such number +as to indicate the exodus of an army. They either had worked northward +by land from Vladivostok, or, concluded Stirling, they had taken ships +and been wrecked on the coast. This was a possibility, considering the +remote locality of the Gulf of Anadir.</p> +<p class="pnext">A call lifted upward from the dark side; Stirling turned away from the +harbour view and looked downward. A revolutionist stood by the square +outline of the after hatch, and he raised his arms.</p> +<p class="pnext">Five Russians were climbing the starboard shrouds, each with a knife in +hand. Each glared down at the man on the after hatch and then resumed +climbing.</p> +<p class="pnext">Stirling leaned farther out, steadied his revolver, sighted it in the +half light, and blazed the night with a cone of leaping fire. He fired +for a second time. One Russian let go his knife, spun on the ratlines, +and dropped like a plummet to the deck below. The others hurried from +their exposed position and crouched under the Jacob's ladder where a +jack offered some shelter. Stirling waited for an open sight at these +two.</p> +<p class="pnext">The man near the hatch shouted an order. The two invaders grasped lines +and slid to the deck. They landed clumsily and staggered for the gloom +of the whaleboats. Stirling replaced his revolver in his pocket and sank +back into the crow's-nest. The attack had steadied his nerves, and he +felt secure for some time to come.</p> +<p class="pnext">Dawn mantled the sky above the dark cliff's edge; a plume of flamingo +red shot to the zenith, and the sun was peering over the Siberian +tableland. It would not be long before the harbour would be illuminated +sufficiently to reveal the state of chaos on the deck of the <em class="italics">Pole +Star</em>.</p> +<p class="pnext">The higher peaks of the mountains grew rosy and white. The light came +on and down with pale shadowings, revealing the surface of the sea in +ghastly detail. Seamen and Russians floated about like dead seals.</p> +<p class="pnext">The deck was a shambles where Marr's lead had scattered the Russian +horde. A hastily erected barricade at the after hatch prevented the +little skipper from sweeping the entire deck. Behind this barricade the +Russians crouched, and forward by the forecastle they swarmed in great +numbers, having broken into the stores.</p> +<p class="pnext">The men were crunching on ship's biscuits and drinking from square faces +of gin.</p> +</div> +<div class="level-2 section" id="chapter-xxiiiover-the-stern"> +<h2 class="level-2 pfirst section-title title"><a class="toc-backref pginternal" href="#id24">CHAPTER XXIII—OVER THE STERN</a></h2> +<p class="pfirst">From his lofty perch Stirling tried to count the number of +revolutionists, and had reached two hundred and ten before he stopped +counting. Others were ashore. A whaleboat had been lowered and paddled +under the shelter of the ship to the beach. It returned with crude +weapons and a ragged crew who could not swim, and they added their +shouting to the turmoil as they fell upon the ship's stores and gin.</p> +<p class="pnext">"Nice party," said Stirling. "I wonder how I'll get out of this."</p> +<p class="pnext">His thoughts swung to the afterguard, a seaman of the lowest coast type. +Stirling remembered him as a Frisco dock rat called "Slim." He had been +too lazy to work—too handy with a knife, yet he alone of the crew had +survived.</p> +<p class="pnext">This seaman appeared suddenly and thrust his shoulders above the +companion. Stirling leaned forward and watched him. There was that in +his leer which spoke of deep drinking and a desire for revenge. He +poised himself a moment, ducked as he sighted the revolutionists, then +appeared with a brass bomb gun. It was of the type whalers use in +finishing a whale, and was capable of great execution.</p> +<p class="pnext">The gun went up to the seaman's shoulder; he squinted along the barrel +and pressed the trigger. The bomb hurtled past the mainmast and exploded +forward of the galley house on the starboard side of the ship, where +three refugees were crouched. They seemed to spring up into the racking +air and vanish. The ship rocked with shouts as the seaman loaded the gun +and prepared for a second attempt.</p> +<p class="pnext">Stirling realized that the last defenders had a weapon in a million. It +was similar to the rifle grenades used in trench warfare, and against it +the Russians were at a great disadvantage. They could not face eight +ounces of tonite exploded in their midst.</p> +<p class="pnext">Marr appeared alongside of the sailor, and he, too, carried a bomb gun. +The shot he fired exploded against the break of the forepeak and missed +the open forecastle companion. Its explosion racked the morning air and +sent showers of splinters as high aloft as the crow's-nest.</p> +<p class="pnext">Stirling watched the fight which followed. The revolutionists had one +advantage: their number was sufficient to overcome any resistance, +provided they were well led. They seemed, however, to lack a leader.</p> +<p class="pnext">The Russian who had stood by the after hatch and directed operations had +been struck by a splinter of ash from a whaleboat. He was carried below +to the forecastle. The man who took his place crouched behind the +mainmast and shouted his orders in a weak, squeaking voice.</p> +<p class="pnext">The rush came at last and in straggling infiltration. The invaders +seeped along the two rails and out from the barricade, then swarmed up +the poop. Marr fired point-blank and dropped down the cabin companion as +a stone crashed against his breast. The seaman stood his ground and +swung the bomb gun by the muzzle. He bowled over a trio of Russians, +drew back, and then glanced downward.</p> +<p class="pnext">The little skipper, pale and bleeding, had appeared for a moment, and +motioned that he was going to close the companion slide. The seaman +swirled the gun, braced himself, and drove it into the gathering knot of +men at the quarter-deck canvas, then he turned and swiftly dived below. +The companion hatch shut with a loud click.</p> +<p class="pnext">Stirling counted his cartridges as the baffled Russians swarmed over the +poop. He could hit a few of them with careful aiming, but he held his +fire. There was always the chance that he, too, would be rushed. A squad +of determined men could reach the crow's-nest if they ignored the cost +to themselves.</p> +<p class="pnext">The sun's rays brought out all the details of the night's fight. Unreal +and ghastly seemed the deck of the ship. Stirling rubbed his eyes and +glanced downward, to where the revolutionists had gathered in a knot +forward of the galley house. The man who had stood near the hatch was +speaking to them; his gestures were strained and dramatic. He pointed +aloft.</p> +<p class="pnext">Faces were turned upward and weapons were raised, but no man started for +the rigging. The determined leader called for volunteers. He seemed to +realize that the crow's-nest was a dangerous point of vantage and the +tiny revolver in Stirling's hand was a potent argument. The Ice Pilot +held it out and took aim. The leader ducked beneath the shelter of a +splintered whaleboat. The other revolutionists were more stolid; they +stared and brandished their weapons.</p> +<p class="pnext">An hour passed with the invaders combing the ship for more gin and +stores. Stirling lay back and pressed against the side of the +crow's-nest. His eyes closed, but he opened them with a sudden start. It +would not do to sleep while the Russians were alert; any minute might +find them climbing the rigging.</p> +<p class="pnext">Sounds floated upward which told that the ship's captors were cleaning +up the deck and otherwise making preparations for her departure. They +had nailed down the companion hatch which led to the after cabins, and +two stood guard there with capstan bars. Others were below in the engine +room, where the clang of doors sounded. Scoops grated across the aprons +in the stokehold, and shrill calls came up the ventilators.</p> +<p class="pnext">A smudge of smoke issued from the funnel, curled the masts, and rose +straight upward in the Arctic air. Stirling coughed and stiffened +himself; he leaned over the edge of the crow's-nest and watched for +developments. It was evident that there was an engineer or two among the +Russians.</p> +<p class="pnext">The leader appeared through the engine-room gratings and stood by the +handrail. He staggered slightly from the effects of the gin he had +drunk, and he turned a weak chin aloft and sneered. His eyes swung +downward and swept the harbour's entrance where it closed to a shelving +rock about which the <em class="italics">Pole Star</em> would have to be steered in order to +make for open sea.</p> +<p class="pnext">The orders he gave were obeyed in listless manner; some of the Russians +openly holding back and consulting. Three of them went to the falls of +the starboard whaleboat and threw the lines from the cleats. The boat +was lowered bow foremost, and almost filled as it struck the sea. A +second boat, which had been used to bring the horde from the shore, +rounded the <em class="italics">Pole Star's</em> bow and was rowed alongside. The two boats, +with the leader in the stern of the one which had been lowered, glided +across the harbour and disappeared around the wall of rock.</p> +<p class="pnext">Stirling wondered at this manœuvre, but had not long to wait. The +leader's boat returned soon and the Russians crowded to the rail. Their +leader came up a dangling falls and pointed toward the entrance, then +gave a series of orders. The anchor chain was cleared of wreckage and +steam plumed from a leak in the capstan engine. The clank of chain +coming through the hawse was followed by the slow turning of the screw. +A roar greeted this sign of departure, and was thrown back by the rocky +walls.</p> +<p class="pnext">Putting down the wheel, a Russian marine acted as pilot in a slovenly +manner. The ship grazed the shore, scraped over a ledge of rocks, and +swung too far for the entrance. It was backed by a quick reversal of the +engines. A second try was more successful. The taper jib boom pointed +down the narrow strait and sheered in time to meet the first rollers of +the Gulf of Anadir.</p> +<p class="pnext">Stirling was openly astonished at the ability shown by the Russians, in +building steam in the boilers. One of their number understood engines +and bells; he had even turned the globe valve which led to the capstan +cylinder. This revealed that there were men in Siberia who had missed +their calling.</p> +<p class="pnext">The ship met the long-running rollers, swung a point toward the east, as +near as Stirling could determine from the position of the sun, and drove +on swiftly.</p> +<p class="pnext">A cape jutted out into the Gulf of Anadir, and toward this headland the +leader pointed as the speed increased and the propeller thrashed astern. +Stirling shaded his eyes from the sun's glint and studied the cape. He +saw the reason for the change of course. A wreck lay athwart two +fanglike rocks over which surf beat. The skeleton of a giant ship marked +how the revolutionists had been cast away.</p> +<p class="pnext">The <em class="italics">Pole Star</em> neared this wreck and reversed her screw. The leader +sprang to the forepeak and called a loud order. A whaleboat was lowered, +and ten minutes later the Russians returned from the wreck with a +chronometer and a sextant. These had been denied them when Marr had +barricaded the cabin of the poacher.</p> +<p class="pnext">Stirling felt the lack of sleep creep over his tired, aching muscles. He +shook himself like a shaggy dog and forced his brain to remain awake. +The creaking of the fall blocks, the clang of an engine-room bell, the +throbbing of the propeller—all were so shiplike and real that he had +difficulty in believing the ship was captured, pillaged, and now off for +a new venture in Northern waters.</p> +<p class="pnext">He widened his tired eyes and allowed them to stray over the deck which +lay like a pointed seed below him. The Russians went about their duties +with newborn vim and determination, as the leader stood at the canvas +rail which overlooked the waist and called his orders. The lower sails +were set to a western breeze. Under the influence of these and the +steam, the <em class="italics">Pole Star</em> rapidly threw the dark coast of Siberia over her +stern and drove for the Strait of Bering and the American shore.</p> +</div> +<div class="level-2 section" id="chapter-xxivbefore-the-wheel"> +<h2 class="level-2 pfirst section-title title"><a class="toc-backref pginternal" href="#id25">CHAPTER XXIV—BEFORE THE WHEEL</a></h2> +<p class="pfirst">Marvelling at the turn of events, Stirling groped about the crow's-nest +and found his twelve-diameter glasses, which had been used in whale +hunting. He turned their screw, adjusted the focus for his eyes, and +swept the open Gulf of Anadir and the Bering beyond the jib boom. No +sign of ship or sail showed. Ice was here and there in dotted specks, +drifting with the great North current which would reverse its direction +and flow back to the Arctic before the month was old.</p> +<p class="pnext">Noon passed with the <em class="italics">Pole Star</em> changing its course degree by degree. +Stirling dozed in an erect position. Each time he awoke it was with a +guilty start. There was grave danger that some of the Russians would +mount the shrouds, since they had already been along the yards. The +canvas they had set billowed before the breeze and blotted out a full +view of the deck.</p> +<p class="pnext">Stirling thought of the girl who must be with the skipper and the Frisco +dock rat. It was evident that Marr had received a crushing blow from the +rock hurled by the Russian; the little skipper's face had been white and +drawn as he barricaded the hatchway.</p> +<p class="pnext">Stirling dwelt on thoughts of the girl in a dazed manner. He realized +that the situation called for every ounce of his energies, yet he would +have given a year of life for a nap in security.</p> +<p class="pnext">Afternoon and six bells, which a Russian struck forward, brought sight +of the open sea rimmed by a dark line to southward which marked the +island of St. Lawrence. Stirling raised his glasses and swept the +horizon to the north and east. He was on the point of lowering them from +his eyes when a speck stood out with tiny distinctness. He focused for +this speck, and pieced together detail by detail, with splendid sight. +He smiled slightly as he dropped his hands to his sides and glanced down +at the deck. The revenue cutter <em class="italics">Bear</em> had already sighted the <em class="italics">Pole +Star</em>. She was bearing to the north so as to head off the ship. There +seemed no escape, for the land on either coast ran into a funnel whose +snout was the Bering Strait.</p> +<p class="pnext">"Saved!" exclaimed Stirling. "I'm saved and she's saved. I think we are +saved—the girl and I. But Heaven help the others on this unfortunate +ship."</p> +<p class="pnext">Sincerely hoping for capture, Stirling prayed silently, raising the +glasses for a second sweep of the sea to the north and east. The speck +had grown into a trailing pencil of smoke which lay athwart the slaty +sky.</p> +<p class="pnext">Glancing over the crow's-nest, Stirling watched the Russian leader on +the poop. He saw a chart being unrolled like a huge rug, and two +Russians followed a pointing finger. The leader rose from a crouched +position and started to give an order to the wheelsman, then this order +died in his throat. A cry rolled along the ship, and was repeated in +guttural accents. The revolutionists gathered on the forepeak had +discovered the smoke over the starboard rail, and pointed and muttered +as they realized its import.</p> +<p class="pnext">A bell clanged as the leader reached for the engine-room telegraph and +set it for full speed. Seamen of doubtful ability swarmed aloft and +started unfurling the upper canvas; three reached the fore-topgallant +yard and went out on the footrope with clumsy feet.</p> +<p class="pnext">They were so near to Stirling he could have shot them from the spars. +The <em class="italics">Pole Star</em> canted and drove north along the meridian line, its +course parallel to that of the fast-coming <em class="italics">Bear</em>.</p> +<p class="pnext">The hour that followed was filled with mingled hopes and fears. The +revenue cutter had been rated a speedy ship by whalers who knew it, but +it was two knots slower than the <em class="italics">Pole Star</em>. This fact came home to +Stirling with the force of a blow. The canvas which the Russians set had +aided in the long running. The <em class="italics">Bear</em> was not closing the gap to any +extent, but held doggedly on.</p> +<p class="pnext">Stirling studied the distance, saw that it was a losing game, then +reached in his pocket for the revolver. He could hit the wheelsman, who +was standing on the poop, and this would cause the ship to sheer. He +took slow aim. The shot he fired missed the wheelsman's head by inches; +the second shot splintered a spoke; the third caught the wheelsman in +the left shoulder. He released his hold and cried a warning.</p> +<p class="pnext">The crew swarmed up the poop steps, glared toward the crow's-nest, and +set about building a barricade before the wheel. This was done as +Stirling ceased his firing; their number was too great to accomplish +anything of lasting moment. The cartridges in the tiny gun were running +low, and the bullets were of too small a calibre to slay save when they +struck a vital spot.</p> +<p class="pnext">A second idea came to him as he pocketed the gun. Reaching downward he +searched for a knife, which should have been in the binocular case of +the crow's-nest. With it he could cut the lines leading to all the sails +on the foremast, which ran by the crow's-nest and up the topmast. The +knife was missing!</p> +<p class="pnext">"I'm beat!" he said. "The <em class="italics">Bear</em> will never catch us!"</p> +</div> +<div class="level-2 section" id="chapter-xxvin-the-grip-of-the-unknown"> +<h2 class="level-2 pfirst section-title title"><a class="toc-backref pginternal" href="#id26">CHAPTER XXV—IN THE GRIP OF THE UNKNOWN</a></h2> +<p class="pfirst">The <em class="italics">Bear</em> had one fact in its favour: the two ships were driving for +the Bering Strait. The Strait was less than forty miles from headland to +headland, and between the two capes lay the Diomede Islands. It was +possible that the <em class="italics">Bear</em> would head off the <em class="italics">Pole Star</em> before reaching +the Arctic Ocean.</p> +<p class="pnext">Stirling studied the situation with scant hope. The Russians, urged to +desperation, had succeeded in getting every turn that was possible from +the screw. Steam plumed in the pipe aft of the funnel; the ship throbbed +and racked; the clang of doors and the lurid light which streamed from +the engine-room companion and the open hatches told of frantic work by +the leader who had a firm grip on the revolutionists.</p> +<p class="pnext">The Diomede Islands rose out of the sea and stood with their rocky walls +black against the sun. Far-off Cape Prince of Wales seemed a cloud bank +of sombre aspect. Stirling climbed to the top of the crow's-nest and +studied the picture. The fast-flying <em class="italics">Bear</em> had held her own. The +distance between the two ships was not more than eight miles; this, +however, was beyond range of the <em class="italics">Bear's</em> guns.</p> +<p class="pnext">"A stern chase," he said, with a glance at the horizon ahead. "We'll +make the Arctic."</p> +<p class="pnext">The <em class="italics">Pole Star</em> crashed through light floe ice and sheered abeam of the +Diomedes. She headed almost west by the compass, which course would +bring her in sight of Herald Island and Wrangel Land.</p> +<p class="pnext">Heavier ice fields loomed ahead, and Stirling watched them with concern. +The Russian wheelsman peered over the barricade and took his orders from +the leader; the ship ported and starboarded, then steadied with clumsy +steering. The crash of ancient floes against her stem, and the grating +as the ice slipped alongside, caused the revolutionists to cry aloud. +They swarmed over the forepeak and pointed excitedly.</p> +<p class="pnext">Stirling glanced aft. The <em class="italics">Bear</em> had not been so fortunate in choosing a +passage through the ice, and had dropped back in the chase. He acted +with sudden inspiration.</p> +<p class="pnext">Leaning over the edge of the crow's-nest he cried: "Make for the open +sea, you fools! Starboard three points! If you don't we'll all be +crushed!"</p> +<p class="pnext">The leader blinked upward and widened his small eyes. He was a gross man +in a uniform of furs and sealskin boots stolen from the <em class="italics">Pole Star's</em> +slop-chest. He turned to the wheelman after a quick squint toward the +ice ahead.</p> +<p class="pnext">The wheel was changed. The ship sheered, missed a heavy-floe formation, +and entered a lane of drift ice.</p> +<p class="pnext">"Steady!" shouted Stirling, feeling the wine of the game. "Hold her +steady, there!"</p> +<p class="pnext">He smiled despite the danger, for the act of giving commands and finding +them obeyed showed that the Russians were new to ice work. They would +most certainly wreck the ship and drown all on board. The century-old +floes through which they glided had been detached from the polar pack, +but once past these, a course held for the America shore would bring +safety.</p> +<p class="pnext">The <em class="italics">Bear</em> had not been as fortunate as the poacher. The ice between the +Diomedes and Cape Prince of Wales was almost impassable, and the +lieutenant in charge of the revenue cutter decided to take no chances. +He reduced speed and struck for the Alaskan coast, since it was evident +that this course would again intercept the poacher. Their place of +meeting would be off Kotzebue Sound.</p> +<p class="pnext">Stirling forgot the massacre aboard the <em class="italics">Pole Star</em>. He never had sided +with the former crew; and the revolutionists, with their ignorance of +the ice, were less to be feared. They had seized a ship, were running +amuck, but at least had the virtue of motion. Their end might come in a +score of ways, and it was to Stirling's interest to see that the ship +remained afloat. There were the girl and Marr and the Frisco dock rat to +consider.</p> +<p class="pnext">Stirling's blood tingled at the excitement of the game; he breathed the +refreshing air and raised his square shoulders. Open water and whale +slick showed ahead, and beyond this the eastern horizon and the gray +shadow of land. They were now plunging north by the compass, with a +slight inclination toward the east. The course, he figured, should read +northeast by north.</p> +<p class="pnext">Lulled by the swaying and throbbing of the ship, he sensed a progression +of true adventure. He had come North to whale. The whaling voyage had +turned into an illicit sealing expedition. Now the revolutionists +closely followed by the <em class="italics">Bear</em>, held the deck.</p> +<p class="pnext">The low Arctic sun swung closer to the horizon. Within the purple haze +astern came flashes of crimson light which died to lavender, and the +lavender into velvet dusk. Night was falling upon the wild sea. It was +well past ten o'clock. The revolutionists, busy at the fires and the +gin, gave scant attention to the ship's bells.</p> +<p class="pnext">Stirling dozed with his head against the rim of the crow's-nest, woke at +odd times, and yawned. Sleep had overcome his stout frame. He peered +down at the deck, saw that it was almost deserted, then lowered himself +into the bottom of the nest and rested his chin on his drawn-up knees. +Here he slumbered through the night.</p> +<p class="pnext">Awaking with a start of surprise, he found that the day had dawned. He +rose and stared out over the bow of the ship. Ice floes showed close to +the port rail, and beyond these the open sea and the cold glint of the +great North pack. He swung to starboard and studied the haze through +which the sun was rising on a long slant. Land was there, and he made a +swift calculation—the ship must be crossing the open Kotzebue Sound.</p> +<p class="pnext">Out of the land mist as the sun veiled itself behind a cloud there +emerged a leaping thing of well-sheeted canvas and belching funnels. The +<em class="italics">Bear</em> had stolen a march on the poacher during the hours of the night, +and a shot came skipping across the waves. It missed the <em class="italics">Pole Star's</em> +stern by a scant cable's length. Another followed from the revenue +cutter's bow gun, and this burst in the whaleboats that lined the +starboard rail.</p> +<p class="pnext">A roar of fright and defiance rolled upward to Stirling. The leader +sprang from the galley house and dashed up the poop steps. A horde of +his followers swarmed from the forecastle hatch and the forehold, and +some leaped down the engine-room companion. The funnel belched big +clouds of smoke and the fire doors clanged. The <em class="italics">Pole Star</em> swerved +toward the west and the open sea. This manoeuvre saved the +revolutionists from certain capture.</p> +<p class="pnext">Stirling waited with held breath and rigid lips. It was nip and tuck for +the flying poacher, but gradually the distance between her and the +cutter increased. The next shots fell short.</p> +<p class="pnext">Men danced on deck and shook their fists toward the cutter, while the +stokehold crew took turns in coming to the rail of their hatchway and +raving at the <em class="italics">Bear</em>. They glanced aloft at the lone figure in the +crow's-nest, but there was no malice in their expressions.</p> +<p class="pnext">Stirling's blood tingled at the excitement of the game, and he lost his +enmity for the Russians. They acted like children freed from bondage. +They had fled from Vladivostok, been wrecked in the Gulf of Anadir, and +were now on the second leg of their adventure. It led to the icy North +and strange waters.</p> +<p class="pnext">The ship plunged away from the coast and toward the North pack. Stirling +realized that the <em class="italics">Bear</em> would follow to the bitter end, and he knew +there was also another revenue cutter in the Arctic Ocean—the chances +were slim for the Russians to escape, and the trap might be sprung at +Point Barrow which juts far out into the Arctic.</p> +<p class="pnext">Hurtling west, and then edging toward the north as the day advanced, the +<em class="italics">Pole Star</em> avoided the pack and settled down to steady progress toward +the American shore in the vicinity of Icy Cape.</p> +<p class="pnext">The day unrolled with the cold sun swinging over the land and through +the mists. The night, which came with slow shadowing, found Stirling +weak and listless from lack of food and water, and he realized that an +effort would have to be made to escape from the crow's-nest. The crew +had drunk the entire store of gin and trade whisky, and they roamed the +deck in groups, their attention fastened upon the low coast along which +many Arctic whalers had been wrecked. The passageway between this coast +and the grounded ice was narrow in places. A north-easter would crush +the ship and drive it ashore.</p> +<p class="pnext">The lane of ice-free waters widened as Cape Lisburne was passed. This +lane often had been blocked by light floes, and Stirling studied the +grounded pack to the west and north, coming to the conclusion that the +season would be an extremely open one. Never before in his experience +had he seen clearer steaming to the eastward.</p> +<p class="pnext">Night came on with the <em class="italics">Pole Star</em> logging thirteen knots. The ship was +surprisingly handled by the Russians, who worked more by intuition than +from experience, but they had the sense of drift and direction. The +<em class="italics">Bear</em> was left hull down in the flecked field astern, but still coming +on grimly.</p> +<p class="pnext">Walruses and seals were distributed by the wash of the ship; lone wolves +howled from the shore; a polar bear lumbered over the ice as the <em class="italics">Pole +Star</em> crashed through, staggered, and resumed its eastward course. The +Russians on deck surged aft for fear of catastrophe. Surrounding the +wheelman and the leader, they peered anxiously toward the after +companion which was barricaded on the inside.</p> +<p class="pnext">Streamers of yellow light shot athwart the eastern heavens, and this +light brightened into a nebula of crimson. The aurora played and +flickered and surged upward toward the zenith, while through it the pale +stars shone. A moon rose and rolled along the lowland which lay between +Lisburne and Icy Cape. The Barren Country stood revealed in cold +splendour, stretching to the ramparts of the Mackenzie River and the +mountains at Fort Yukon.</p> +<p class="pnext">A sense of motion came to Stirling, for he knew the waters. Never +before, however, had he found the sea so open. The aged and grounded +floes were well to the northwest, and had not been driven above the +seven-fathom line. The lane they left for navigation was wide enough to +float all the navies of the world, and only a great storm would close it +behind the <em class="italics">Pole Star</em>.</p> +<p class="pnext">Midnight found Stirling weary of the details of the voyage and weak from +lack of food and water. A languor stole over his rugged frame; he yawned +and attempted to sleep, but a clang of a fire door and a quarter-point +swing of the ship awakened him to dull consciousness. He peered over the +edge of the crow's-nest.</p> +<p class="pnext">The deck below seemed a haven; there was food and water there. The way +down would be short. He searched about for some sign of the Russians. +Aside from the wheelman's head over the barricade and a towering leader +standing by the weather rail of the quarter-deck, there was no one in +sight.</p> +<p class="pnext">The funnel, almost beneath shrouds, was crowned with a ring of fire, and +a shift of wind now and then drove smoke upward. Stirling choked in +this, tried to marshal the details of an escape, but felt his position +was far too desperate to await daylight. The Russians were sleeping off +the last of the gin. Their leader had given orders to drive for Point +Barrow and take the chances to be met there.</p> +<p class="pnext">Stirling widened his eyes and pressed his hand to his hot brow, studying +the white lane of water which was bordered by ice on one quarter and the +dark land upon the other. A providence had the ship in its grip. Small +floes were avoided by no effort of the wheelman and thin ice, formed +overnight, was ripped as satin by a knife.</p> +<p class="pnext">Point Barrow was less than five hours' steaming ahead, and beyond the +Point, with its whaling station and its native village, lay the open Sea +of Beaufort and the unknown land of Keenan. It was a desperate sea into +which to venture, and the horror of the short month came home to +Stirling. He was facing cold, starvation, and isolation—a trinity of +despair.</p> +<p class="pnext">The stars paled as the slow dawn started creeping along the eastern +heavens. The onward surge of the ship through the dream scene of flecked +ice patches and mirrorlike water became a vision of unreality.</p> +<p class="pnext">Stirling searched the way ahead, and recognized familiar landmarks from +other voyages. The ribs of a whale ship showed high driven upon the +tundra. This was the wreck of the <em class="italics">George M. Foster</em>, thrust ashore +three seasons before by the pressure of the North pack.</p> +<p class="pnext">Other wrecks marked the beach, showing where a fleet of whalers had +attempted to gain the shelter of Point Barrow. A northwester had +scattered them and laid their bones out upon the pale Arctic wilds. Men +had died there from starvation and cold.</p> +<p class="pnext">Native villages showed, with their summer huts gaunt and bare against +the snow, and behind them igloos, fast melting in the warm air. Kayaks +and umiaks dotted the beach; dogs came down to the shore and stared at +the ship. A head was thrust through a tent's bark door, and a hand +waved. Then afterward had come the rushing of dark forms along the +tundra and the cries of natives.</p> +<p class="pnext">The wheelsman held the centre of the course between the North pack and +the sand spits. The leader, muffled to the eyes in sealskin, came out of +the galley and glanced aloft. The orders he gave were for more steam, +and the funnel belched forth smoke and driven cinders. The screw +thrashed as the ship hurtled on into the brightening dawn.</p> +<p class="pnext">Stirling climbed out of the crow's-nest, lowered his legs over its +forward edge, and sat there with his hands gripping one of the +downhauls. The sea ahead was polished and rippleless, the way to Point +Barrow was open, and already the land had bent to the north and west. +They were now rounding Alaska.</p> +<p class="pnext">A shout rose from the dark deck, forms swarmed from the forecastle, and +the ship took on churning life. The leader had sensed the danger to be +met with at Point Barrow. A premonition had seized him that the <em class="italics">Bear</em> +might have signalled by wireless to a waiting government boat.</p> +<p class="pnext">Stirling divined that this would be the case, and pressed his palm +against his head. The throbbing of the ship, felt at the masthead, drove +a surge of nausea through his stout frame. The end was close at hand, +unless they struck out to open sea, through the ice floes, and avoided +the Point.</p> +<p class="pnext">A misted sun rose in the north and east, directly before the taper jib +boom of the <em class="italics">Pole Star</em>. It drove the last of the aurora from the sky, +rose in a rolling eye of fire, and brought out all the details of the +stretching Arctic wild.</p> +<p class="pnext">To the north and west showed great floes, which had grounded upon the +shallow land which marked the seven-fathom bank. Between these floes +lanes appeared, filled with whale slick and sporting seals. They led to +the true north and the solid pack below the cold horizon.</p> +<p class="pnext">Swinging the helm with sudden intuition, the leader drove the ship down +a wide lane and away from the shore. Stirling sensed this manœuvre +was to avoid being sighted at the Point. The leader had spread a chart +out upon the quarter-deck, and his thumb traced a course which would +take him away from any possible pursuit; it would also be a venture into +an unknown sea. Blond Eskimos and castaways from Franklin's expedition +were supposed to people the polar shores of Banks and Keenan Land.</p> +<p class="pnext">Stirling studied the ship's deck with eyes brightened by hunger and +resolve. He sought for a place to descend—an opening which would allow +him to reach the forehold where stores and water could be found.</p> +<p class="pnext">The revolutionists were scattered from the forepeak to the break of the +poop. Smoke showed from the galley stovepipe. The engine-room crew and +stokehold crowd had redoubled their efforts in order to sheer the ship +from the land. Word had been passed down that the <em class="italics">Bear</em> might signal +the government people at Point Barrow, which was almost in sight.</p> +<p class="pnext">Stirling glanced aft to where the Russian at the wheel was taking his +orders from the leader who had sprung upon the weather rail and was +holding to the mizzen shrouds.</p> +<p class="pnext">The chance for escape from the crow's-nest had come. The mainsail hung +from the main yard, and its flapping canvas would afford some slight +shelter. Stirling weighed the opportunity and prepared to make the +effort. The open main hatch invited with its glimpse of boxes and +scattered trade stuff.</p> +<p class="pnext">He lowered himself from the crow's-nest and stood on the jack above the +Jacob's ladder. Here he was sheltered from a chance glance aloft. He +poised himself, gathered together his remaining strength, then reached +downward and grasped the ladder's top, his eyes slowly swinging aft. +They rested on the barricade of canvas which had been erected forward of +the cabin companion. A form moved behind this canvas, and the eastern +light brought out the details. It was Slim, the Frisco dock rat, a +ragged tam-o'-shanter capping his uncut hair.</p> +<p class="pnext">With his face pressed over the edge of the canvas, Slim took in the +details of the ship and the revolutionists and frowned. A second form +moved close to his side and the girl glanced over the canvas, her eyes +raised in tearful search of the crow's-nest. When they lighted upon +Stirling, she beckoned with a white finger, then gave a heart-rendering, +poignant call of distress.</p> +</div> +<div class="level-2 section" id="chapter-xxviin-the-sudden-darkness"> +<h2 class="level-2 pfirst section-title title"><a class="toc-backref pginternal" href="#id27">CHAPTER XXVI—IN THE SUDDEN DARKNESS</a></h2> +<p class="pfirst">The Ice Pilot had no way to answer the piercing call of the girl, yet +the revolutionists might detect her presence at any moment. The leader +was alert and kept sweeping the sea to port for a chance opening which +would lead farther away from the land. He turned once toward the +wheelsman, berated him in Russian for not putting the wheel over soon +enough, as the ship narrowly escaped a heavy floe.</p> +<p class="pnext">Again the girl beckoned as Stirling watched the two forms beyond the +canvas barricade. This time she had lifted her pale face so that he +could see her shoulders and arms. They were slight and childish, and +tears glistened upon her cheeks. Her call was not to be denied, and +Stirling lowered his legs, swung far out over the deck, hesitated in +that position, and turned his head.</p> +<p class="pnext">Slim, the sole survivor of the forecastle crew, was reaching downward, +his back straining. He straightened up and staggered aft to the +taffrail. The burden he carried froze Stirling in the act of descending +the ladder, and an icy chill swept through the Pilot's body, which +almost unnerved him. He wound his fingers about the ratlines and +breathed deeply. The Arctic air seemed strangely quiet.</p> +<p class="pnext">Slim reached the rail and lifted one leg to the top. He removed his +tasselled cap, shifted his burden, turned and glanced at the girl, who +had covered her eyes with her hands; then he raised the body he carried +and hurled it astern of the fast-driving <em class="italics">Pole Star</em>.</p> +<p class="pnext">Stirling watched the rude burial with straining eyes. Marr had been +wounded by the rock which had struck his breast in the fight with the +revolutionists, and the little skipper must have died some time after +the blow. He, perhaps, had been nursed tenderly by the girl during the +hours of the chase from the Gulf of Anadir. Her call showed that she +feared Slim, who was now alone with her in the stern of the <em class="italics">Pole Star</em>.</p> +<p class="pnext">Again Stirling stared at the girl. She removed her hands from her eyes, +turned slowly, and grasped the edge of the canvas barricade. Her hair +had fallen and she stood revealed as a frail creature in the grip of a +strong man. She motioned with a flutter of her hand as she released her +fingers from the canvas, then slowly sank to her knees, buried her face +in her palms, and sobbed.</p> +<p class="pnext">Slim turned from the taffrail, squared his shoulders with an upward +jerk, and eyed the girl. He smiled cunningly, then came forward, glanced +at the Russian leader in the shrouds, and tapped the girl on the arm.</p> +<p class="pnext">Stirling started descending the shrouds with fevered energy. He reached +the standing rigging and found a foothold in the ratlines, turned his +chin, and glared aft like a shaggy bear. The girl and Slim had vanished +down the companion and the noise they made in closing the companion +slide had attracted the attention of the leader. His head was quarter +faced away from view.</p> +<p class="pnext">It was then that Stirling sprang to the deck, and dashed for the open +main hatch. His way to the poop was barred by a group of revolutionists +gathered at the port rail in the waist. They were watching the unfolding +shore where it flattened out into Point Barrow. A cruiser cutter showed +there, flags flying from her signal halyards, steam jetting from aft her +funnel. She was balked, however, for a rampart of century-old ice formed +a barrier between the lane in which she rode and the one through which +the <em class="italics">Pole Star</em> was striking out to the north and west.</p> +<p class="pnext">Stirling hesitated a moment at the hatch. He saw that the cutter had +waited off the Point in expectancy of capturing the poacher. The chase +might lead out from shore and into the pack ice which extended to the +Pole.</p> +<p class="pnext">A shout rolled along the deck from aft, and the leader turned in time to +see the crouching figure by the main hatch. He called, and the Russians +at the rail wheeled and started over the deck. Stirling reached in his +pocket, brought forth the little silver-plated revolver, and jabbed it +forward. The knot of men recoiled. Others swarmed out from the galley +house and rounded it with careful steps, but they, too, held back.</p> +<p class="pnext">Stirling laughed defiantly. He feared the croaking sound of his own +voice, so parched and dry was his throat. He pocketed the revolver, +grasped the edge of the hatch, swinging out and into the sheer. His feet +crushed a box as he landed in the hold. He straightened himself, raised +his arms, and, blinking in the sudden darkness, stumbled aft toward the +lazaret, and the way to the cabin where the girl was quartered.</p> +</div> +<div class="level-2 section" id="chapter-xxviiin-the-pit"> +<h2 class="level-2 pfirst section-title title"><a class="toc-backref pginternal" href="#id28">CHAPTER XXVII—IN THE PIT</a></h2> +<p class="pfirst">The main hold was littered with a maze of boxes, bales, and bundles, the +last made up of sealskins roughly bound, with salt sprinkled upon the +fleshy side of the pelts. This precaution had been taken by Marr and +Whitehouse on the day following the raid.</p> +<p class="pnext">Stirling paused near where the deck beams allowed a narrow passage +through to the lazaret, and under a hatchway which led to the galley +house and the cook's quarters. He glanced around and allowed his eyes to +accustom themselves to the darkness.</p> +<p class="pnext">None of the revolutionists had dared follow him down through the main +hatch. The sight of the revolver he had flashed at them was a stern +reminder, and he felt of this weapon as he waited. He heard the steady +clamp of the engines and the calls in Russian as the stokehold crew were +urged to greater efforts.</p> +<p class="pnext">The <em class="italics">Pole Star</em> was striking away from Point Barrow, and had sheltered +herself in a long lane of ice reaching deep within the North pack. It +would be fortunate, indeed, if this lane opened and allowed the ship +through to the sea to eastward.</p> +<p class="pnext">Stirling found a box in the lazaret which had been crashed open by a +rude heel, and through the hole in this he drew out a double handful of +hard and dry ship's biscuits. He munched on these, and glanced about for +water. None was in sight. He found several empty gin cases from which +the square faces had been removed; a dark corner of the lazaret was +piled with small, strong boxes. The lower tier of these contained +bottles of ginger ale and soda. He emptied three bottles of soda, waited +a few minutes, and then started drinking the fourth.</p> +<p class="pnext">The effect was magical. The ship's biscuits, whose food value is high, +served to refresh his weary body, and he stared around with some +interest in his surroundings.</p> +<p class="pnext">A stout door, heavily barred by a crossbeam in the bulkhead, indicated +the way to the stokehold and the after part of the ship. He moved +through the gloom and tested this crossbeam. It could be lifted, but he +paused to listen. Clanking doors and scraping shovels on the iron plates +of the stokehold marked where the Russians were feeding the <em class="italics">Pole +Star's</em> fires.</p> +<p class="pnext">There was no way through to the cabin and the girl save by way of the +stokehold and the engine room, and the deck was crowded with alert +revolutionists.</p> +<p class="pnext">Stirling dropped his hand into the side pocket of his pea-jacket and +felt the cold assurance of the little revolver's steel. It nerved him as +he drew out his hand and lifted the crossbar which the cook had placed +in order to prevent a raid on the lazaret.</p> +<p class="pnext">An opening showed, lurid with furnace fires and hot coals. Three +Russians, stripped to the waist, were lounging in one corner of the +stokehold, and all were smoking cigarettes made from cut plug and tissue +paper. Their attention was on a fourth Russian, who was watching the +steam gauge above the central boiler.</p> +<p class="pnext">Stirling widened the door by a steady pull with his fingers, and stared +beyond the Russian to where an opening showed in the bulkhead. This +opening marked the way to the engine room and the after part of the +ship.</p> +<p class="pnext">Bunker doors and slides showed to port and starboard, and the coal lay +piled where the passers had shovelled it. A Russian tossed away his +cigarette, seized a scoop shovel, and stepped to the after door of the +forward furnace. The glare which filled the stokehold as he opened the +door gave Stirling an opportunity.</p> +<p class="pnext">Risking all on the venture, he flung wide the bulkhead door which led +from the lazaret and dashed across the scattered coal, reaching the +opening to a spare bunker on the starboard side of the hold before he +was discovered. Then a Russian shouted a warning, and the chief of the +stokehold crew swung from the furnaces and stared through the half +light.</p> +<p class="pnext">Stirling brushed aside the lunging form of a revolutionist, and struck a +second Russian a swinging blow beneath the ear. Plunging on, he gained +the door which led to the engine room as a slice bar was hurled in his +direction.</p> +<p class="pnext">He wheeled at the door and braced himself. The Russian he had struck was +slowly rising from the iron plate before the spare bunker, and a form +swung from the reflection of light which streamed out of an ash box and +lunged forward. Stirling called a warning as he bent, twisted, and +worked his way through the bulkhead door until he reached the alleyway +which led to the engine room.</p> +<p class="pnext">Flashing crank shafts and the polished glow of metal blinded him. Men +were on the gratings and halfway up the ladder which led to the deck +companion. Stirling dodged around the first and second intermediate +cylinders, rested a hand on the huge low-pressure cylinder; then he +dropped to one knee, squirmed beneath the tail shaft, and started +crawling down the shaft alley.</p> +<p class="pnext">The Russians had been too startled to prevent this manœuvre, but now +they came aft with torches and pinch bars. The glow from the overhead +sun which streamed through the deck light brought out the details of the +shaft alley as far aft as the second coupling. Behind this was a narrow +pit compressed on each side by heavy planking and sloping at the bottom +into the fan-shaped overhang of the <em class="italics">Pole Star's</em> stern.</p> +<p class="pnext">Stirling worked his way aft to the thrust bearings, which were three in +number. Here the pit was dark and damp, and he turned and glanced +forward. The faint light which marked the outlines of the shaft alley +grew stronger as he waited.</p> +<p class="pnext">A burly form moved within the gloom, then another man joined the first +Russian. Hammer blows sounded, and the light vanished as if a shade had +been drawn. Stirling, with every sense alert, guessed the reason for the +darkness. The revolutionists in the engine room had brought aft a number +of sheets of boiler plate, and these they had erected about the tail +shaft where it entered the engine room.</p> +<p class="pnext">A grim smile creased Stirling's lips as he waited. The way now was +barred by three-eighth-inch iron; he was a prisoner in the pit.</p> +</div> +<div class="level-2 section" id="chapter-xxviiithe-third-door"> +<h2 class="level-2 pfirst section-title title"><a class="toc-backref pginternal" href="#id29">CHAPTER XXVIII—THE THIRD DOOR</a></h2> +<p class="pfirst">A faint sound from above echoed throughout the alleyway, and Stirling +turned his head, listening with every sense alert. The sound was +repeated, then footfalls grated on the deck planks. The clank of the +engines and the whirling shaft drowned out further steps in the cabin.</p> +<p class="pnext">Stirling reached toward the thrust bearings, measured the distance, and +thought deeply. He was directly beneath the alleyway which extended from +the staterooms to the after companion—the girl and Slim, the Frisco +dock rat, were above him.</p> +<p class="pnext">He touched the planks, feeling the seams between the inch-thick decking. +He traced these seams and found that they ended in a coaming at each +side of the shaft alley. These were secured to the deck beams by screws +which in turn were covered by tree-nails. The barrier seemed impassable.</p> +<p class="pnext">The throbbing of the screw, driven to its limit, had a lulling effect +upon Stirling, who sank to his knees and crawled along the alleyway +until his fingers touched a thrust block; sitting on this he dropped his +head into his greasy hands and thought, his brain swirling in the maze +of doubt and unreality.</p> +<p class="pnext">He had no tool with which he could cut his way upward, and his problem +was to get in communication with the girl so that a passage could be +bored through the deck planks.</p> +<p class="pnext">The polished shaft at his side attracted his attention and he felt of +it, counting the revolutions. They were slightly faster than the beat of +his pulse. The power of a thousand horses was there in that rod of +steel, and he wondered vaguely if there was any way to turn it to +account.</p> +<p class="pnext">The covers for the thrust blocks and shaft bearings were firmly bolted +down. He groped about and searched every corner of the alleyway, finding +an inch bolt and a battered oil can. These he placed by the thrust block +and continued the search.</p> +<p class="pnext">A faint light from the engine room illuminated the forward end of the +shaft alley, and he crawled to this opening and peered through. The +low-pressure cylinder and the engine frame prevented further scrutiny, +but the shadows that moved across the gratings above the cylinder marked +the presence of the revolutionists. One, perhaps, was on guard.</p> +<p class="pnext">Stirling thrust his fingers through the plate which had been nailed to +prevent his escape. Straining, he saw that he could move the lower +section of iron sheeting. An object under the after bearing of the +engine had attracted his attention—a long strip of leather belting +coated with grease and oil.</p> +<p class="pnext">He moved the plate, and waited; then he crawled halfway through the +opening and secured the belt, Backing carefully, he worked his way aft +to the thrust block.</p> +<p class="pnext">He now had a belt and a bolt and with these crude tools he intended +boring through the planks over his head. The task was a painful one. He +would have to arrange the belt so that it would run under the shaft and +over the bolt, which was turned by the shaft's power. Its corners might +work through the plank.</p> +<p class="pnext">He found that the bolt was too small in diameter to secure any result, +and that the belt slipped and would not turn the shank. He laid the bolt +down and picked up the oil can, whose shape suggested the solution of +the problem.</p> +<p class="pnext">Removing the oil spout by unscrewing it from the top of the can, he +inserted the bolt in its place. The can turned freely with the bolt as +an axle.</p> +<p class="pnext">Stirling smiled through the grime upon his features. His mind had +evolved a saw of the superior order, power driven and bound to be +effective. He waited before he went on with the experiment.</p> +<p class="pnext">The seething of the water told him that they were still hurtling through +the lane of ice, and floes grated alongside. A shout echoed backward +from the engine room, and the clank of steam-driven rods rose to a +crescendo of effort. The <em class="italics">Pole Star</em> was striking out to open sea and +the unknown waters to the north and east of Point Barrow.</p> +<p class="pnext">The cutter cruiser had been distanced, and the <em class="italics">Bear</em> was a slow third +in the chase. There was no way to tell where the pursuit would lead. +Stirling thought dimly of the northeast passage and the way to Baffin +Bay. Only madmen could effect such an enterprise.</p> +<p class="pnext">Steps sounded above as Stirling toyed with the can, and he heard them +going aft. Others followed; these were lighter. There came then the +faint echo of a scuffle and the low cry of a woman, followed by a man's +rude laugh as the light steps ran forward and a door slammed.</p> +<p class="pnext">Stirling constructed the scene in his mind: The dock rat had seized the +girl and embraced her, and she had torn herself from his grasp. The +slamming door told that she had barricaded herself in the cabin. It was +time to interfere. The inch-thick planks overhead formed the only +obstruction, and he felt of them, then reached for the oil can.</p> +<p class="pnext">The belt tightened over the polished shaft and over the rim of the can, +which was at least three inches in diameter. The bolt acted as a rod, +and the cutting edge as it touched the plank ground through for a +quarter inch and then refused to work deeper.</p> +<p class="pnext">Stirling saw the reason for this: The copper of the can had no abrasive +edge. He lowered the can, drew out his revolver, and started nicking the +metal. Each blow sounded like a hammer stroke in his straining ears, and +he feared to dent the bottom of the can so freely that it could not be +straightened. He pocketed the revolver and felt the edge. It was rough, +at any rate.</p> +<p class="pnext">The improvised saw now cut into the overhead plank as he pressed the +bolt upward with straining arms. The belt slipped at times, but he +waited and tried anew. The power which was in the tail shaft of the +engines was sufficient for a thousand saws.</p> +<p class="pnext">Dust and splinters dropped down upon his tense face, but he held on +grimly with one determination mastering his thoughts: The girl was in +danger. She was barricaded in her stateroom, and the dock rat was +probably sitting by the great table in the main cabin—with a vast +reservoir of gin and whisky from which to draw.</p> +<p class="pnext">Stirling felt the edge of the can bite through the plank in one place. +He lowered it and examined the opening. The belt had stretched under the +strain and had permitted a cut of seven or eight inches in length.</p> +<p class="pnext">Crossing the belt, Stirling started a second cut at a right angle to the +first, and worked on with his arms aching and growing numb from the +strained position. The oil in the can had served for lubrication to the +bolt, but when this oil dried, the bolt squeaked, and the can became +hot.</p> +<p class="pnext">He lowered it from the cut in the deck plank and the smell of hot oil in +the shaft bearings gave him an idea. There was enough grease and oil +packed with waste there to keep the bearings cool. He lifted a cover and +dug out a handful of dripping packing, which he squeezed into the can. +The bolt was now lubricated.</p> +<p class="pnext">Though working in almost total darkness, he made rapid progress, and +still no sound came from above. The dock rat probably was sleeping +across the table; the girl had not moved in her cabin.</p> +<p class="pnext">The first faint light which streamed through the crack he made steeled +Stirling to renewed efforts. He enlarged the opening and stood erect.</p> +<p class="pnext">The view was a limited one of an ornate ceiling stamped here and there +with fresco and border designs. In the centre of this ceiling gleamed +the frosty light from an electric dome. Three lamps burned, despite the +fact that a soft glow was filling the splendid cabin. This glow came +from the breaking dawn which made rosy the deck light and cabin +companion.</p> +<p class="pnext">Stirling removed his eye from the crack and felt the grooves he had cut +in the planking. They were almost sufficient for his purpose. He trimmed +a corner with his improvised saw, ran the saw through a deep cut till it +severed the plank's edge, then pressed firmly upward. The trapdoor he +had cut was held by only a few splinters.</p> +<p class="pnext">He waited and reviewed his position. The revolutionists were busy with +the engines and the furnaces, and their shouts came aft with muffled +curses. The clang of a bell told that the leader had urged more steam, +and the ship was hurtling through a sea free from ice. Stirling could +hear no grating along the run.</p> +<p class="pnext">He worked forward, guiding himself by the touch of the polished tail +shaft. The barricade of iron plates was an effective barrier to a sudden +rush. There was scant danger from the Russians. The sentry they had +placed on guard stood high on the gratings overlooking the opening to +the shaft alley. Stirling peered through a crack in the plates and +watched him. He was looking intently at the two intermediate cylinders.</p> +<p class="pnext">Working aft with careful steps, Stirling reached his trapdoor and +listened. A sound of deep breathing came to him. Slim, the dock rat, was +directly above, where he choked now and then, and his arms moved over +the racks of the table. Then he was still—save for the drunken +breathing which subsided almost to nothingness.</p> +<p class="pnext">Stirling braced his shoulders against the planks, pressed his feet upon +the shaft bearing, and strained with every muscle. A splintering noise +sounded. A second thrust tore loose the last of the planks. They +showered about him as he reached upward, rested his elbows on the edge, +and sprang to the deck of the cabin.</p> +<p class="pnext">Slim raised an arm, fell forward, lifted his chin, and turned it in a +slow arc. His eyes blinked as Stirling lunged for him with a bearlike +glide which was not to be denied. Strong fingers clasped about the dock +rat's throat; he was lifted from his chair and hurled across the floor +of the cabin. Stirling was after him with a quick stride.</p> +<p class="pnext">The struggle which followed was terrible in its intensity. Stirling had +the strength given to outdoor men; he was unskilled, however, and faint +from loss of sleep and food. Slim had learned boxing and wrestling along +the San Francisco water front. He squirmed to his knees, twisted from +Stirling's grip, and lowered his head for a rush. Stirling met this +attack with a savage reaching of arms and a grunt as Slim uppercut with +vicious strength. They fell into a clinch, they swayed and staggered +about the cabin, overturning chairs and stools.</p> +<p class="pnext">Stirling's clean living began to tell as the Ice Pilot recovered his +wits and became more careful. Lunging blows straightened and became +jabs, hugs gave place to standing exchange of blows. The dock rat leered +from puffed eyes and searched about for a weapon. A brass bomb gun and a +Remington rifle lay across the table. He dodged and reached for the bomb +gun, his fingers closing over the barrel, when Stirling leaped the +distance and wound his arms about Slim's waist.</p> +<p class="pnext">The dock rat, catapulted through the air, crashed against the sheathing +of the starboard wall. He managed to rise, but Stirling was over the +planks and upon him with a vicious outthrust of his jaw. The madness of +the struggle had completely mastered the Ice Pilot, who fought +furiously.</p> +<p class="pnext">Soon Slim lay still. Stirling, looking about for a cord or line, saw a +tassel protruding from a curtain which covered the alleyway leading aft. +Jerking this loose, he lunged swiftly to Slim's side, drew his arms +behind him, and completed a sailor's job of tying and splicing from +which no man could escape.</p> +<p class="pnext">The dock rat opened one eye and moaned. Stirling drew back and glanced +sternly at him, his bulk seeming to fill the cabin.</p> +<p class="pnext">Slim closed his eyes and moaned for a second time. "Let me loose," he +managed to say.</p> +<p class="pnext">"Stay there!" Stirling said with a slow glance around.</p> +<p class="pnext">The curtain attracted his attention. It had been partly wrenched from +its pole by the drawing away of the cord. Beyond it lay the alleyway and +the cabins of the after part of the ship. The girl's cabin was one of +four.</p> +<p class="pnext">"Which stateroom is the girl in?" he asked, leaning over Slim.</p> +<p class="pnext">The sailor squirmed and dragged at his arms where they were bound, +rolled over, and stared upward at the deck. A light streamed down from +the barricaded companion, a light which heralded the rising of the sun. +Stirling followed the dock rat's glance and studied the shadow, then +wheeled swiftly and saw a tiny ship's clock set in the wall. A hasty +calculation of time and shadow showed him that the <em class="italics">Pole Star</em> was +driving east by true reckoning and north by compass. The variation was +all of ninety degrees.</p> +<p class="pnext">He listened to the progress of the ship as he waited for the dock rat to +answer his question. The throbbing of the screw and the swift rush of +water under the counter showed that the revolutionists were still +extending their efforts. The great bight of sea beyond Point Barrow and +off the mouth of the Mackenzie River was being crossed. The land ahead +would be unknown territory, filled with danger and starvation.</p> +<p class="pnext">Weakly Stirling turned; all the fight seemed to have left him, and he +swayed as he glanced downward. The sailor had closed his lips in a hard +line, and there was malice and calculation in his sharp, darting glances +about the cabin.</p> +<p class="pnext">Stirling shrugged his shoulders, dropped on one knee, and felt the cord. +It was drawn sufficiently tight. Rising slowly, the Ice Pilot breathed +deeply, feeling the aching muscles of his chest as they expanded; then +he set in order the chairs and stools of the cabin and lifted the rifle +until it swung in a natural manner under his right armpit.</p> +<p class="pnext">"Stay right there!" he commanded as he glanced toward the sailor. He was +surprised at the sound of his own voice, unnatural and falsely tuned.</p> +<p class="pnext">Shaking his head with weariness, he advanced to the curtain, brushed it +aside with his left hand, and strode down the alleyway, where four doors +offered themselves. Each was closed. He knocked at the first, but there +was no answer; it was the same with the second.</p> +<p class="pnext">The third door proved to be that of the girl's room. He heard her +stirring inside as he repeated the knock, then listened with bent head. +He felt the room was sacred—he had known so little of women that they +all were holy to him, and he told himself that he was committing a +sacrilege.</p> +<p class="pnext">He tapped again—this time lightly. A poignant sobbing greeted his ears.</p> +<p class="pnext">He bent his head closer and said: "It's me. Don't be afraid. I'm +Stirling—the Ice Pilot. I'm the one who was in the crow's-nest."</p> +<p class="pnext">He strained his ears, and the sobbing ceased. A hand was on the latch; +the door started to slide open.</p> +<p class="pnext">"It's me," he repeated as the hand that pressed the door hesitated. "I'm +all right," he added, with tired assurance. "I'm armed, and that sailor +is taken care of—the one who insulted you."</p> +<p class="pnext">The door slid open swiftly, and the girl stood framed in the aperture. +Her hair was down her back, her wide eyes swollen from tears and +distress.</p> +<p class="pnext">He rested the rifle against his hip. "Are you all right?" he asked, +sincerely. "Are you?"</p> +<p class="pnext">"Yes—now, I am." The glance that lifted to his own was frank and +shimmering with amazement. Stirling glanced over her shoulder full into +a long cheval mirror, and recoiled as he looked at his own reflection. +The oil and grease of the shaft alley, the week-old stubble of beard, +the wan, red-rimmed eyes which shone from hollow sockets—these made a +picture of desperate adventure.</p> +<p class="pnext">"You'll have to excuse me," he said. "I didn't know I looked like +this."</p> +<p class="pnext">The girl smiled and extended her hand. "You came to me," she said, +bravely. "That's what I wanted."</p> +<p class="pnext">Stirling nodded and rubbed his chin with his palm, then turned and +stared toward the curtain. Slim had rolled over and was hammering the +cabin deck with his heels in an endeavour to escape the bonds around his +wrists and elbows.</p> +<p class="pnext">"I found him," said Stirling. "What do you say if we go in +there—Miss—Miss——"</p> +<p class="pnext">"Miss Marr—Helen Marr," she said, quickly, as she came gliding out of +the door. "You see," she added, "I'm not a bit frightened—at you!"</p> +</div> +<div class="level-2 section" id="chapter-xxixto-see-it-through"> +<h2 class="level-2 pfirst section-title title"><a class="toc-backref pginternal" href="#id30">CHAPTER XXIX—TO SEE IT THROUGH</a></h2> +<p class="pfirst">Rough-garbed and soiled from his efforts, Stirling led the way aft to +the large cabin of the <em class="italics">Pole Star</em>, then turned and held the curtain +back for Helen Marr. He bowed as she passed through and stood staring at +the prone form of the Frisco dock rat.</p> +<p class="pnext">"I'll attend to him, miss," declared Stirling. "Did he insult you?"</p> +<p class="pnext">The girl flushed slightly, but there was an assurance in her manner that +bespoke the daughter of the sea. She braced her slight form by leaning +against the table and turned to the Ice Pilot. "No; he didn't insult +me," she said. "He couldn't. But he is not a gentleman and never can be +one."</p> +<p class="pnext">Stirling stepped over the deck and reached downward, coiled his arms +about Slim, and raised him from the planks.</p> +<p class="pnext">"Hold the curtain," he said, softly. "I'll put this fellow out of harm's +way. There's a cabin just made for him, where we can feed him and watch +him."</p> +<p class="pnext">Helen Marr stared at Stirling as he shifted his burden, smiled slowly +through the grime of his lips, and staggered with Slim through the +curtain and down the alleyway to the cabin where Whitehouse and Marr +had kept him prisoner.</p> +<p class="pnext">He was back in three minutes with a key held between his fingers. "You +take this," he said with concern. "Take it and keep it. I'm going to +look around and find some water and a razor. I expect we're going to be +together for some time, as the revolutionists are heading east. I don't +want to frighten you with my appearance, Miss Marr."</p> +<p class="pnext">"There's running water and razors in uncle's cabin."</p> +<p class="pnext">Stirling stiffened and passed his hand over the stubble of his cheeks, +removing his cap as he asked, "So he was your uncle?"</p> +<p class="pnext">"Yes; Mr. Marr was my uncle. He brought me along on this trip because +there was nobody to look after me ashore. I was at boarding school in +Concord when he came for me."</p> +<p class="pnext">Stirling glanced at the girl with open sympathy, and she returned his +look, then blushed slightly, and moved away from the table. The key he +had given her dropped to the deck. She recovered it and brushed back her +hair as she rose.</p> +<p class="pnext">"I'm sorry he died," Stirling managed to say. "I'm sorry. But I don't +think he was doing right in bringing you North, and I don't think the +seal raid was right. You see I'm plain-spoken. I'm not used to young +ladies."</p> +<p class="pnext">A laugh echoed through the cabin. "You're a sight!" said Helen Marr. +"We'll get along. I don't fear anything at all now. Those awful +Russians are afraid of you."</p> +<p class="pnext">Stirling glanced at the barricaded deck light, and listened to the swift +rush of the ship through the smooth sea. A slight chill was in the air, +which spoke of ice fields to the north and east.</p> +<p class="pnext">He dropped his glance and swept the cabin. The bomb gun on the table was +a weapon in a thousand, and with it it would be possible to hold the +cabin against a large number of men.</p> +<p class="pnext">"The thing we have to find out," he said, "is how to stop the ship +before we go too far. We're off Herschel Island now. Another day's mad +steaming will wreck us sure. I don't want to see you wrecked."</p> +<p class="pnext">The girl pointed toward an after doorway. "That's uncle's cabin," she +said. "Go shave and fix yourself. Then we'll talk about things. I don't +think being wrecked is so terrible."</p> +<p class="pnext">Stirling shook his head and moved toward the cabin. He opened the door, +turned, and glanced backward, then went inside with the girl's face +stamped upon his memory. She was full of fire and youth, the voyage of +the <em class="italics">Pole Star</em> had been an adventure for her. The death of Marr had not +saddened her. He found soap and a razor resting behind the washstand, +and with these started to make himself presentable.</p> +<p class="pnext">Strength and youth came through his features as he scraped and hacked; +simple in all his motions, he found himself for the first time in a +great hurry. The girl had appealed with elfin charm, though he knew no +more of women than landsmen know of the mysteries of the sea.</p> +<p class="pnext">After he had finished shaving, a good wash in cold water, a swift +parting of his hair, and a borrowed necktie from Marr's collection, +caused him to smile at his reflection in the glass. He stood the proper +figure of a man—four square to wind, weather, adversity, or the +revolutionists.</p> +<p class="pnext">The situation was desperate enough to call for all the strength of +Stirling's mind and muscle. The ship was heading due east by the +meridian, or north by magnetic compass, and the true Pole was being +thrown over the ship's port waist like a sinister shadow. Ahead lay the +Magnetic Pole and the land where Franklin and his brave men had perished +in the search for the northwest passage.</p> +<p class="pnext">Stirling looked from the mirror to the open porthole of the cabin, and +saw the low-lying land which marked the American continent. The water +was muddy and filled with driftwood, which indicated that Herschel +Island and the mouth of the Mackenzie River were being passed.</p> +<p class="pnext">"Our last wintering place," he said, with his face pressed to the +porthole. "Yonder she is. There's scant chance from now on."</p> +<p class="pnext">He turned and glanced about the cabin. A telltale compass over a +brass-bound bunk showed that the course read north. It changed a point +as the <em class="italics">Pole Star</em> swung and dashed by a field of ancient ice. Then the +ship steadied, the engines clanked, and steps sounded overhead. The +revolutionists had gathered for a consultation.</p> +<p class="pnext">Stirling opened the door of the cabin, stepped out, and faced Helen Marr +who stood by the baby-grand piano which was lashed to the after part of +the bulkhead.</p> +<p class="pnext">"We're off Herschel Island," he said, running his fingers over his face +in anxiety. "I'm sorry for your sake. There are no winter quarters +beyond the Island that I know of; it's all lowland and dangerous +anchorage. We're in for it!"</p> +<p class="pnext">The girl inclined her head and listened, then pointed upward. A wan, +tired smile, that threw tiny wrinkles in the corners of her mouth, held +Stirling's eyes. She seemed suddenly older to him, and he wondered at +this change as he waited for her to speak.</p> +<p class="pnext">"They are above," she said at last. "Do you think they are plotting to +capture you?" Her voice had changed, and Stirling detected a note of +concern. He looked up and caught her glance full upon his own. She bit +her lip and flushed.</p> +<p class="pnext">He tried to stammer an answer, but none came that fitted the question. A +gulf had suddenly opened between them, and her eyes no longer held the +shimmer they had once contained. She had stared at him as if he had been +a ghost or spectre from another world, her manner suddenly grown cold.</p> +<p class="pnext">"What did I do?" he exclaimed. "Why do you look at me that way?"</p> +<p class="pnext">"Because—why, because I thought you were an old man. You're not!"</p> +<p class="pnext">Stirling straightened, and he felt his heart throbbing. "I'm forty-six," +he said. "That's old, isn't it?"</p> +<p class="pnext">The girl's face dimpled; the lines vanished from her lips and left her +openly frank and childish looking. "Forty-six?"</p> +<p class="pnext">"Going on forty-seven."</p> +<p class="pnext">"That isn't old. You look so different with a shave and a—wash. I'm +going to make you promise one thing."</p> +<p class="pnext">Stirling was ready to promise any number of things. "What is it?" he +asked.</p> +<p class="pnext">"That from now on you shave every day, and from now on we're—friends."</p> +<p class="pnext">"I'll promise that!" said Stirling, heartily. "We two are going to see +this thing through—as friends. You can trust me! We'll stand +guard—watch and watch."</p> +</div> +<div class="level-2 section" id="chapter-xxxin-swift-salute"> +<h2 class="level-2 pfirst section-title title"><a class="toc-backref pginternal" href="#id31">CHAPTER XXX—IN SWIFT SALUTE</a></h2> +<p class="pfirst">"You're not going to kill anybody?" Helen Marr asked, after a moment's +pause.</p> +<p class="pnext">"Not unless they try to harm you," Stirling replied.</p> +<p class="pnext">The girl raised her chin and thrust out her right hand. "I was always a +wild creature," she said. "Father died soon after I was born, and mother +let me run wild in Concord. Then uncle came from across the sea. He +always liked me; once he took me to England on a voyage. It was a Boston +ship he owned an interest in. I can reef and steer. I had a sloop in +Maine—all one summer."</p> +<p class="pnext">"Can you handle a rifle?"</p> +<p class="pnext">"Yes. Only I don't want to kill anybody."</p> +<p class="pnext">Stirling stepped to a gun rack on the starboard side of the cabin, went +over the rifles racked there, and picked out a light gun which Marr had +brought North for shooting seals.</p> +<p class="pnext">"We'll load this," he said, laying it across the table. "It's yours in +case of trouble. The revolutionists are getting into deep ice and the +time is coming when they will call on me. I may have to take command of +the ship. Otherwise——"</p> +<p class="pnext">His pause was suggestive. Helen Marr stared out through the nearest +porthole, then turned with a pucker showing at the corner of her mouth. +"What were you going to say?" she asked.</p> +<p class="pnext">"Otherwise we will be cast away in the land that Heaven forgot. There is +nothing up here but death and starvation. There is no food or shelter; +there is only cold and ice and desolation. It is almost all unexplored. +Coronation Gulf, where we are heading, leads to Victoria Strait and +Lancaster Sound. The passage was never made."</p> +<p class="pnext">"But the Russians may make it. Isn't the season an open one?"</p> +<p class="pnext">"So open that I fear we will go too far to turn back. There's coal +enough aboard to take us to Baffin Bay."</p> +<p class="pnext">"Uncle has been there."</p> +<p class="pnext">"But not from this side of the world." Stirling glanced about the cabin +and then stepped over to an ornate bookcase beneath which was a drawer +filled with maps.</p> +<p class="pnext">He unrolled a map and spread it across the table. "Come here," he said, +nodding to the girl. "I'll show you where we are and where we're +heading."</p> +<p class="pnext">The girl stepped close to his side and leaned over the chart, following +his pointing finger as he traced a course from Point Barrow to the mouth +of the Mackenzie River. "From there," he said, "we may strike two ways. +The most likely course is through Coronation Gulf, and then by Boothia +Gulf, but there's another route to the eastward. It leads west by the +compass and around this land." Stirling pressed his thumb on a maze of +inlets and narrow straits. "If the revolutionists try that course we're +cast away in the polar pack. It'll be all up with you and me."</p> +<p class="pnext">The girl drew back the chart and raised her finger to her lips, almost +pouting as she asked: "Are you afraid?"</p> +<p class="pnext">Stirling stammered and rolled up the chart with a swift motion of his +right palm. "Not exactly afraid," he said; "but with the crew on deck +that we have, there is every chance of getting nipped."</p> +<p class="pnext">"Nipped?"</p> +<p class="pnext">"Yes! Caught in the ice and crushed. Many ships have had that happen. I +remember the <em class="italics">Beluga</em> and the <em class="italics">Prince Charles</em> and the schooner <em class="italics">Rosy +Enders</em>. They all were nipped to the eastward of Herschel Island. We're +in the same waters."</p> +<p class="pnext">"But wouldn't it be splendid if the Russians got through to Baffin Bay? +Just think what the world would say. The Northwest Passage!"</p> +<p class="pnext">"The Northeast," corrected Stirling, with a faint smile.</p> +<p class="pnext">"Isn't there a big reward for going around the American Continent?"</p> +<p class="pnext">"There was; I don't know about it now. The Norwegians did it in a little +ship, but it took them years."</p> +<p class="pnext">The girl moved across the cabin and pressed her face to the nearest +porthole, then turned and found Stirling's eyes fastened upon her.</p> +<p class="pnext">"I see lots of ice," she said, naïvely. "There's ice everywhere."</p> +<p class="pnext">"Except ahead. We're going down a lane of open water between the floes +and the shore. Cape Bathurst should soon be sighted."</p> +<p class="pnext">The girl turned her head and glanced through the porthole. "I see land!" +she exclaimed, with a quiver in her voice. "It doesn't look so terrible. +There're green moss and trees—I think they are trees."</p> +<p class="pnext">"Arctic pines," Stirling said. "It's No Man's Land on this side of the +world. You stand watch with that Remington and I'll go look that sailor +over. He must be hungry."</p> +<p class="pnext">Stirling moved toward the curtain as the girl turned away from the open +porthole and stepped to the table where the rifle lay. She lifted it, +and frowned in perplexity as her fingers toyed with the trigger guard +and cocking mechanism.</p> +<p class="pnext">Suddenly she wheeled and laid down the rifle. "I couldn't shoot +anybody," she said, staring across the cabin. "Nobody is going to bother +us, now."</p> +<p class="pnext">"I'm not so sure, Miss Marr. There's a time coming when the +revolutionists will be in distress. Then there's Slim to reckon with. He +might escape while I'm sleeping. You know I haven't slept for days—just +a nap now and then in the crow's-nest and the shaft alley."</p> +<p class="pnext">Stirling hurried to the dock rat's cabin and pressed open the door +after inserting the key in the lock. Slim sat up and twisted his body.</p> +<p class="pnext">"Nice way you've left me," he said, bitterly.</p> +<p class="pnext">Stirling examined the bonds and smiled grimly, but he did not answer the +sailor. He glanced about the cabin, saw that the porthole was fastened +securely, then hurried back to the girl.</p> +<p class="pnext">"Please get biscuits and water," he said. "That sailor is doing fine. If +he doesn't keep it up I'll turn him over to the revolutionists."</p> +<p class="pnext">"He was all right until after uncle died," Helen said. "Then he started +drinking and saying things to me. I wasn't afraid of him, only——"</p> +<p class="pnext">"Only," interrupted Stirling, "you should have kept that little +revolver. I appreciated it, but you needed it worse than I did. Here it +is."</p> +<p class="pnext">Stirling dropped his hand into his pocket and brought out the little +silver-plated gun. "Take it, please," he said, "and—will you get me +some biscuits and water? I'll feed the sailor."</p> +<p class="pnext">The girl hurried through an after doorway, opened some tins in a small +pantry, and returned with a tray of crackers. She set these on the +table, and drew a pitcher of water from the tap in the cabin.</p> +<p class="pnext">Stirling studied her motions, and dreamed of a fairy or an elf. He was +staring at the steps which led to the cabin companion as she offered him +the pitcher of water. His eyes dropped, and his lips grew firm. "I'll be +back soon," he said in a far-off voice. "You watch for the +revolutionists. Fire that rifle if they attempt to get down."</p> +<p class="pnext">The sailor took the offering with bad grace, as Stirling propped him up +in the bunk and released one hand so that he could eat. He retied him +securely as the last of the crackers was consumed between yellow teeth.</p> +<p class="pnext">"Stay right there," said Stirling, as he closed the door. "Better keep +mighty quiet, too," he added, sternly, as he drew the key from the lock.</p> +<p class="pnext">The girl had climbed partly up the companionway steps, and she turned, +drawing her skirts about her ankles as she saw Stirling coming from the +forward alleyway.</p> +<p class="pnext">"What's up there?" he asked, setting the empty pitcher and tray on the +table. "Can you see anything, Miss Marr?"</p> +<p class="pnext">"The leader and two other revolutionists are at the wheel," she said. +"They are puzzled over something. I think the leader wants to steer +toward the north."</p> +<p class="pnext">The girl pointed at the port side of the ship, and Stirling shook his +head. "That's west now," he said. "It's magnetic west. You see the +directions are all changed. We're heading north by the compass. If he +changes to the west it means that he is going to try and clear Banks +Land. That'll lead us to Melville Sound. It may be open."</p> +<p class="pnext">Helen Marr lifted her chin and beamed into Stirling's face. "There's +sunshine on the ice," she said, pointing out through a starboard +porthole. "See it? You should smile. I don't think we are in any +danger."</p> +<p class="pnext">Stirling caught the contagion of youth and high spirits. The season was +so remarkable that he doubted his own senses, for the <em class="italics">Pole Star</em> was +steaming at twelve knots through waters which were usually closed to all +save the lucky ships in the whaling service. The progress from Point +Barrow had been continuous. They had gone farther east than most Arctic +expeditions, and the way north was clear save for small ice floes. It +might be possible to reach Melville Sound and unknown straits leading to +Baffin Bay.</p> +<p class="pnext">The Ice Pilot bent his head and thought deeply, but the ship suddenly +swerved, and he straightened. The sunshine now streamed through the +after starboard portholes of the cabin, striking across the racks of the +table and bringing out the details of the bookshelves and piano.</p> +<p class="pnext">Helen Marr clapped her hands, ran to the porthole nearest the after +bulkhead, and peered out, then turned with eyes of flame. "See," she +said, "we're going north now—or west. There's open water and an open +sea. Oh, I'm glad of it!"</p> +<p class="pnext">Her slight body flitted to the piano. She drew down the cover and pulled +out a stool. The music she played was familiar to Stirling:</p> +<blockquote><div> +<div class="line-block"> +<div class="line"> +"Whither, oh, splendid ship, thy white sails crowding,</div> +<div class="line-block"> +<div class="line"> +Leaning across the bosom of the urgent West,</div> +</div> +<div class="line"> +Thou fearest nor sea rising, nor sky clouding,</div> +<div class="line-block"> +<div class="line"> +Whither away fair rover, and what thy quest?"</div> +</div> +</div> +</div></blockquote> +<p class="pfirst">The girl turned on the revolving stool and glanced toward Stirling. "How +do you like that?" she asked, blithely. "Do you want more?"</p> +<p class="pnext">Stirling smiled and nodded, and her fingers strayed over the ivory keys +for a moment. The song she sang was new to Stirling, but as he listened, +he heard above the silver-running notes another sound. Steps came +overhead; a shadow blotted out the glass of the deck light. The Russian +leader had been attracted by the music, and he was joined by one of the +revolutionists. The two Russians stood in rapt attention as Helen Marr +sang to her own accompaniment:</p> +<blockquote><div> +<div class="line-block"> +<div class="line"> +"The fair wind blew, the white foam flew,</div> +<div class="line-block"> +<div class="line"> +The furrow followed free;</div> +</div> +<div class="line"> +And we were the first that ever burst</div> +<div class="line-block"> +<div class="line"> +Into that silent sea."</div> +</div> +</div> +</div></blockquote> +<p class="pfirst">The girl turned. "That's from the 'Ancient Mariner,'" she said. "I set +it to music. I think it's appropriate, don't you, Mr. Stirling?"</p> +<p class="pnext">"The silent sea part is," he said. "I shouldn't wonder if you sang the +truth. Even the leader was interested. I wonder if he understands +English?"</p> +<p class="pnext">The two in the cabin stared up at the shadows on the deck light, and +these shadows moved away as the girl rose from the piano stool and came +across the deck.</p> +<p class="pnext">"You had better go into the stateroom and get some sleep, Mr. Stirling," +she suggested. "You look tired and worn. Sleep would do you a world of +good. I'll stand guard."</p> +<p class="pnext">Stirling climbed the companion steps and tested the barricade of oak +timbers which Marr and Slim had fitted, then came down and went forward +to the curtain. A second doorway, which was at the end of the alley, had +been nailed shut with three-inch spikes, and there seemed no way for the +revolutionists to break into the after part of the ship.</p> +<p class="pnext">He moved the table over the hole he had cut in the deck, and upon this +piled stools and a bookcase for a barricade.</p> +<p class="pnext">"Let me know if anything happens," Stirling said, as he stepped toward +Marr's stateroom. "Be sure and do that!"</p> +<p class="pnext">The girl lifted the rifle and stood at attention. "Good-night!" she +said. "Shut the door; I'll wake you if it's necessary."</p> +</div> +<div class="level-2 section" id="chapter-xxxidanger-and-doubt"> +<h2 class="level-2 pfirst section-title title"><a class="toc-backref pginternal" href="#id32">CHAPTER XXXI—DANGER AND DOUBT</a></h2> +<p class="pfirst">When Stirling awoke it seemed to him that he had passed through an ocean +of dreams. He rolled over and blinked through leaden eyes at the +porthole. Dawn was breaking across a wild waste of Northern waters; ice +floes and ancient packs floated by; seals sported; whale slick showed in +oily patches, and the sun glanced over the smooth surface of the sea. A +ripple showed where the <em class="italics">Pole Star's</em> sharp stem was cleaving the +surface.</p> +<p class="pnext">Stirling rubbed his eyes and listened. The steady clank of the engines +and the vibration of the tail shaft beneath him still continued. He +glanced upward. The tiny, telltale compass overhead was pointing west. +The ship was headed for the true pole!</p> +<p class="pnext">"Madmen!" said Stirling, springing out of the bunk.</p> +<p class="pnext">He emerged into the larger cabin to find that Helen Marr had vanished. +The rifle lay across the table, and her knitted tam-o'-shanter was +hanging from one corner of the piano; the deck light had been thrown +open, and the companionway was unbarred.</p> +<p class="pnext">Stirling strode through the curtain and tested the door which led to +the sailor's cabin. It was locked. A bitter protest in Frisco slang +greeted his query. He hesitated. The girl had eluded him in some manner. +She had gone on deck.</p> +<p class="pnext">He crossed the alleyway, cocked the rifle, and burst into the larger +cabin. Up the steps which led to the companion he climbed with savage +strength, and the light of dawning day and the gust of salty air which +filled his lungs cleared his brain. He stared about the quarter-deck, +then dropped the rifle's butt down upon his boot.</p> +<p class="pnext">The girl, bareheaded and with ribbons flying, was sitting in a deck +chair; near by were the Russian leader and two other revolutionists. +They turned as she laughed buoyantly, but the leader frowned and reached +for his pocket. Stirling raised the rifle and swung it under his arm.</p> +<p class="pnext">"Good morning, Mr. Stirling," called the girl. "Come aft with me. These +poor men are not our enemies. They're lost and want a pilot."</p> +<p class="pnext">Stirling lowered the muzzle of the rifle, but still eyed the leader, and +his lips grew hard and level with suspicion. He raised his shoulders +slightly.</p> +<p class="pnext">The girl saw the motion and sprang out of the deck chair with a cry. +"They're only big boys!" she exclaimed. "I was playing the piano and +singing—while you were sleeping. One song they liked, and the leader +knocked on the glass and called to me. There were tears in his eyes. +He's escaped from Siberia and wants to get to America. They all have +escaped, Mr. Stirling. They wouldn't harm anybody!"</p> +<p class="pnext">Stirling remembered the carnage when the revolutionists took the ship. +But perhaps they had thought that the <em class="italics">Pole Star's</em> crew would resist +and therefore had anticipated an expected attack. And they seemed to +have treated the girl with the attention due a princess. A cushion was +at the foot of the deck chair; tea steamed in a kettle; crackers had +been brought from the galley.</p> +<p class="pnext">"I think you had better go below," said Stirling glancing at the girl's +upturned face.</p> +<p class="pnext">"Speak to them; they don't mean us any harm."</p> +<p class="pnext">Stirling turned toward the leader, and the small eyes before him +lightened where they had been filled with fear. A gross, hairy hand +swept forward expressively.</p> +<p class="pnext">"You don't know where you are?" asked Stirling, gesturing.</p> +<p class="pnext">The man, apparently getting the sense of the Ice Pilot's question, shook +his head.</p> +<p class="pnext">"Do you want to go back?" Stirling pointed the rifle toward the jack +staff and the stern of the ship.</p> +<p class="pnext">The leader repeated his nod, then spoke to the two others, who, Stirling +decided, also held office among the revolutionists. They lumbered to the +rail and stared forward, raising their arms and pointing.</p> +<p class="pnext">Stirling shaded his eyes from the rays of the sun which was swinging on +a long slant over the sea, and saw ahead, and to starboard, the glint of +horizon-down ice. He knew the reason—they were within thirty miles of +Banks Land.</p> +<p class="pnext">The sea was open to the magnetic west, where a hard line rimmed the +surface. Gulls flew overhead, and the smoke of the furnaces blotted +across the waters. The entire scene was one of desperate enterprise. +They were steaming on an unknown ocean of danger and doubt, where no +explorers had been able to penetrate. Only an open season, such as +Stirling had never known before, permitted the <em class="italics">Pole Star's</em> progress.</p> +<p class="pnext">With a mastering glance, he turned toward the leader, his head back, the +cords of his neck showing like roots of some giant oak. Helen Marr +seized his left hand and crept close up to him.</p> +<p class="pnext">"I'll pilot this ship!" he said.</p> +<p class="pnext">"Where?" asked Helen Marr.</p> +<p class="pnext">"Through the Northeast Passage!"</p> +</div> +<div class="level-2 section" id="chapter-xxxiito-the-last-day"> +<h2 class="level-2 pfirst section-title title"><a class="toc-backref pginternal" href="#id33">CHAPTER XXXII—TO THE LAST DAY</a></h2> +<p class="pfirst">As the sun rose above the ice-covered sea on the morning following +Stirling's talk with the leader of the revolutionists, the ship was +swung toward the magnetic north and driven within the opening which lies +between Banks Land and Prince Patrick Island.</p> +<p class="pnext">Banks Strait the passage was called, and it led from Beaufort Sea and +the uncharted waters east of Keenan Land to Melville Sound and Barrow +Strait. From the appearance of the ice and direction of the wind, +Stirling decided to chance the passage. There was no way back!</p> +<p class="pnext">He climbed the shrouds and dropped into the crow's-nest. The after deck, +from the companion hatch to the taffrail, had been reserved by the +revolutionists for Helen Marr and her steamer chair. She had conquered +the Russians by her smiles and songs. They all stood in the presence of +death and the unknown. The appearance of the sea; the strange tides and +currents; the action of the compass at variance with the stars—all +these drove the haunting desire of companionship within men's breasts. +Old differences were forgotten in the face of despair.</p> +<p class="pnext">Stirling took quiet charge of the ship. He gave the orders, which were +partly understood by the leader, who, Stirling soon learned, really knew +a fair amount of English, although at first he had been loath to +disclose his knowledge, no doubt for strategic reasons. One or two +others of the Russians had a smattering of English.</p> +<p class="pnext">The <em class="italics">Pole Star</em> dodged in and out of ice floes and drifting packs which +had been loosened by the unusual warmth. The way ahead was unknown and +uncharted, and it was barely possible that the heavier ice had gone +south and west with the current.</p> +<p class="pnext">Gripped with the desire for research and discovery, Stirling made many +notes in Marr's old log book. He held the crow's-nest until the sun +rimmed the western waste of waters and ice; then descended to the deck +as an open lane appeared before the course of the ship.</p> +<p class="pnext">With his hand in his pocket he moved among the silent revolutionists, +and they made way for him as he stepped across the waist of the ship and +climbed the quarter-deck steps. Their attitude was one of respect. Had +he not driven the <em class="italics">Pole Star</em> that day through a wilderness of drift ice +which none of them believed passable? His hearty "Steady, port; hard +aport—now starboard!" was a revelation in piloting.</p> +<p class="pnext">The coffee he drank as Helen Marr appeared from the companion way +cleared his brain. He tapped the log book and swept his hand over the +sea to the north.</p> +<p class="pnext">"All new!" he said, proudly. "We're about the first ship to make this +passage. McClintock on a sledge was up here."</p> +<p class="pnext">Helen Marr brushed the hair from her forehead and turned with the silver +coffeepot in her hand. She pointed over the taper jib boom of the <em class="italics">Pole +Star</em>. "I remember," she said, "a painting in an old book, of Lady +Franklin and Sir John Franklin sitting together in an old London room. +The painting was called 'The Northwest Passage.'"</p> +<p class="pnext">"He died down there," said Stirling, pointing toward the magnetic north. +"See the glint of ice? The sun won't sink to-day, it will rim the world +to the west and slowly rise."</p> +<p class="pnext">The girl watched Stirling and stepped closer to his side. "Do you think +we can get through to open sea?" she asked, turning her face up to his.</p> +<p class="pnext">He shook his head. "I don't know," he answered. "We'll try! We're +heading for Barrow Strait and Lancaster Sound. Both may be jammed with +ice. If they are——"</p> +<p class="pnext">Stirling's pause was suggestive. The girl shuddered and drew a coat +about her shoulders, then set the coffeepot down on the deck and glided +to the taffrail. A nip had come into the air, and it was no longer day +or night. The sea birds rested upon the floes without motion; the seals +and walrus watched the fast-gliding ship, then slipped into the water, +and were gone. Desolation and death ruled the world above seventy-three.</p> +<p class="pnext">Stirling waited until the girl came back. She picked up the coffeepot, +and her eyes were filled with longing as she said:</p> +<p class="pnext">"Go back and do what you can. There seems to be ice everywhere."</p> +<p class="pnext">Stirling squared his shoulders and stepped briskly to the wheelsman. He +bent there and consulted the binnacle, reached and took the chart which +the leader held out to him. Its details were vague enough. Dots showed +where land <em class="italics">might</em> be, and the soundings were in spots where explorers +had lowered a lead line through the frozen surface.</p> +<p class="pnext">"A bad place to be," Stirling said to the leader. "I think we are in for +it from now on."</p> +<p class="pnext">The leader thrust out his hands, and at that moment the ship struck a +sunken ledge of ice. The bow sheered, and cries came from forward.</p> +<p class="pnext">"Steady!" Stirling shouted into the wheelsman's ear. "Hold her steady, +you, until I see!"</p> +<p class="pnext">He leaped the planks and sprang down to the waist. He was up the weather +shrouds and into the crow's-nest with the agility of a young boy, and +his eyes swept the way ahead. The stretch of ice seemed interminable, +since the long spit of sand which marked a portion of Prince of Wales +Land had caused the floes to ground, and there seemed no way to the +eastward. Stirling turned and stared aft over the stern of the ship. The +way by which they had come was now blocked by floes.</p> +<p class="pnext">"Nipped!" he said between strong white teeth. "We're nipped!"</p> +<p class="pnext">With the binoculars he swept the entire ice-bound horizon. The sun was +rising through the western mist, and appeared a ball of cold fire. The +aurora played across the Northern heavens and leaped to the zenith. +Through it shone the light points of the high swinging dipper and the +overhead lodestar.</p> +<p class="pnext">Stirling braced himself, pressed the glasses to his eyes for a second +glance, then set them down. He leaned over the edge of the crow's-nest +and called to the leader, who was at the wheel:</p> +<p class="pnext">"Give her full speed and starboard the helm!"</p> +<p class="pnext">The ship gained and churned forward. The jib boom swung off toward a +lower shelf of ice, and the crash that followed as the stout sheathing +cut through the floes drove the Russians to their knees. The foremast +whipped like a willow rod. The girl cried a warning.</p> +<p class="pnext">"Back her!" shouted Stirling. "Reverse, and try again!"</p> +<p class="pnext">The manœuvre was repeated. The ice gave way; the <em class="italics">Pole Star</em> lunged +on and cleared to an open lane. Beyond this lane was still another icy +barrier.</p> +<p class="pnext">Stirling attacked this with fury. He felt the grip of winter in the air, +and tiny patches of new ice were forming despite the rising sun. The +sea, once frozen, would lock them in the North for many winters. The one +way out was to crush the floes ahead.</p> +<p class="pnext">The ship grounded on a hidden sand bar which jutted from the nearest +land to starboard. Stirling gave the order which cleared it, but only +after an anxious half hour of backing and plunging forward. He mopped +his brow. The ice had drifted around the point and was bearing down on +the ship. This time there seemed no escape. Reluctantly he gave the +signal to cease the attempt, and climbed from the crow's-nest down the +rigging. They were ice-bound in Barrow Strait.</p> +<p class="pnext">The ship swung her jib boom toward the land and began drifting ashore. +Stirling paused at the rail long enough to order the anchor dropped, +then went aft as the Russians cut the deck lashings and began lifting +the anchor.</p> +<p class="pnext">The rattle of the rusty chain through the hawser woke him to the terror +of the situation. Steam plumed from aft the funnel, but the screw was +still. The engine-room crowd had emerged from the companion and were +staring at the wilderness of ice and snow. The sea water overside and +around the <em class="italics">Pole Star</em> was scummed with a film of mush ice.</p> +<p class="pnext">The leader offered Stirling the chart when he reached the quarter-deck, +and as he took it, he removed his mittens, and breathed upon his +fingers. They tingled as he tracked the course of the ship from the +mouth of the Mackenzie, and studied all that the chart had to tell him +of the strait ahead.</p> +<p class="pnext">The position of the <em class="italics">Pole Star</em> was desperate. The formation of heavy +ice would press her ashore, and a shift of current or advancing floes +was sure to wreck the ship.</p> +<p class="pnext">Stirling raised his eyes and rolled up the chart, then passed it back +to the leader with a shrug of his broad shoulders. The Ice Pilot braced +his legs against a step, and his eyes swept along the deck. The +revolutionists had gathered in the waist, and some were pointing to the +land which lay to starboard, where green patches of moss showed upon the +lowland, but the hills were crusted with perpetual snow. The weather +side of the ridge showed deep gullies filled with black ice from which +streams of water had issued, and then frozen. There was no sign of life, +save an Arctic bird which wheeled in the sky and started toward the +southward.</p> +<p class="pnext">Helen Marr glided across the deck and came to Stirling's side, glancing +up at him with wonder breaking through the beauty of her eyes. She had +donned a sealskin cap and long coat, and her red lips and crimson cheeks +struck him with the force of an accusation. He lowered his glance and +stared at the deck.</p> +<p class="pnext">"Can't we go on?" she asked, a tremor in her voice.</p> +<p class="pnext">"Not now, Miss Helen. Perhaps the ice barrier will open by night, the +current is still in our favour, but it's the wind that counts. See, it +is toward shore. That brings the ice."</p> +<p class="pnext">The girl studied the drifting floes which were gathering about the +whaler, like chicks about a mother hen. Beyond these floes came others, +crashing and tumbling, driven by the northeast wind. She turned toward +the land, and her hand went up to shield her eyes from the glint of sun +on ice. "What country is that?" she asked.</p> +<p class="pnext">"That's Russel Island off Prince of Wales Land. If we could get around +that point we might go on through Barrow Strait."</p> +<p class="pnext">The girl bit her lip, wheeled suddenly, and stared down at the waist of +the ship. The revolutionists had grown excited over their argument which +was as to whether they should leave the ship before it was crushed by +the gathering floes. They pointed toward the land and the sky beyond, +where the haze marked still other land. Green spots showed close to +shore—Arctic moss and tundra.</p> +<p class="pnext">Stirling touched the girl on the shoulder. "I see them," he said. "They +may decide to abandon the ship. Let's go below and boil some coffee. I'm +going to wait until the wind shifts before I decide. They may want me to +lead a landing party, but I'll stick to the ship."</p> +<p class="pnext">"And me?"</p> +<p class="pnext">"Yes; and you—to the last day of my life!"</p> +</div> +<div class="level-2 section" id="chapter-xxxiiia-grim-warning"> +<h2 class="level-2 pfirst section-title title"><a class="toc-backref pginternal" href="#id34">CHAPTER XXXIII—A GRIM WARNING</a></h2> +<p class="pfirst">The statement was made so fervently that Helen Marr blushed and did not +answer as she followed the towering form of the Ice Pilot across the +quarter-deck and down into the cabin, which was warm from the steam +pipes which led from the boilers. The coffeepot was filled and placed +over an alcohol stove, and she added some biscuits and marmalade to the +meal.</p> +<p class="pnext">Stirling had removed his cap, showing a slight sprinkle of gray in his +hair, but his eyes spoke of youth and were strong with resolve. She +raised her glance and smiled as she offered the coffee.</p> +<p class="pnext">It came to her with force that he was no longer the aged, shaggy bear +who had crawled up the trapdoor in the deck of the cabin. Her influence +had been for good, and he reminded her of a faithful Viking who would +shed his last drop of blood for her protection. The revolutionists were +potentially dangerous, but she sensed with the intuition of woman that +they feared Stirling.</p> +<p class="pnext">He rose from the table and stood with his head close to the deck beams. +"I'll go up now," he said, "and watch the ice. Your coffee was a fine +bracer."</p> +<p class="pnext">She, too, rose and followed him to the step leading to the deck +companion. "Do you think the Russians will desert the ship?" she asked.</p> +<p class="pnext">"They go to their death if they do. The land is impassable. It is five +hundred miles to the nearest Hudson Bay post. Franklin and others could +not cross that barren land. Nor can the revolutionists."</p> +<p class="pnext">"But they are Russians and used to the cold."</p> +<p class="pnext">Stirling shook his head and replaced his cap. "The ship is the only way +out," he said, sincerely. "We must stick by it!"</p> +<p class="pnext">He was halfway up the steps when she called to him. He turned and +glanced down, his fingers on the combing of the hatch. His eyes widened +as she lifted her face to his and pouted slightly.</p> +<p class="pnext">"There's one thing we've forgotten," she said.</p> +<p class="pnext">"What is that?"</p> +<p class="pnext">"About the man from San Francisco, the one you locked in the cabin. +Don't you think you should let him loose?"</p> +<p class="pnext">Stirling caught the note of sympathy in her tones, but he shook his +head.</p> +<p class="pnext">"He will behave," she added, quickly. "I'm sure that he will. He is +afraid of you."</p> +<p class="pnext">Her eyes were wide and very blue.</p> +<p class="pnext">"Please let him go," she asked. "I'm sure of him."</p> +<p class="pnext">The Ice Pilot turned and strode across the cabin, brushed aside the +curtain, and passed into the alleyway. Voices sounded as Helen Marr +waited, then Slim appeared with one hand grasping the wrist of the +other.</p> +<p class="pnext">He leered through the half light of the cabin, and glanced up at the +deck opening. "It's a fine way to——" he began, but Stirling silenced +him with a glance.</p> +<p class="pnext">"Get on deck!" the Ice Pilot commanded. "Get up and forward! The +Russians won't kill you, they're too busy deciding whether to abandon +the ship or not. You'll find food in the galley. Go now!"</p> +<p class="pnext">Slim paused at the top of the steps and glared down, then ducked his +unshaven face as Stirling moved toward the foot of the stairs and +started upward. There was that in Stirling's face which brooked no +excuses; his jaw was set with a fighting bulge at the point.</p> +<p class="pnext">The deck was deserted, the wheel swung idle, and the <em class="italics">Pole Star</em> rose +and fell with the ground swell which lifted the ice floes and packed +them upon the shelving beach.</p> +<p class="pnext">Stirling crossed the planks, after shutting the cabin companion hatch, +and stood by the canvas rail, studying the excited knot of +revolutionists in the waist below him. The leader had mounted a hatch +and was speaking rapidly, pointing now and then to the menace of the ice +gathering to the north and west.</p> +<p class="pnext">The land over the starboard rail held a certain lure to ignorant minds, +the green moss and lichens which showed being apparently a promise of +greener things to the southward. But Stirling knew that this inference +could not be made. The way to the American continent was ice strewn and +bare of animals; a trail of death and starvation.</p> +<p class="pnext">The Russians moved in a flock to the rail and studied the ice about the +ship—already firm enough to support a man's weight. The low swinging +sun had not warmed the air enough to prevent the sea from freezing, and +floes and drift ice were being cemented in the laboratory of nature. The +ship alone was free, but encompassed by a ring of spongy ice and snow.</p> +<p class="pnext">The sky overhead was pale; light flurries of ice particles dropped down +to the deck, while the Northern aurora played and shot streamers up to +the zenith. The sun plunged into a heavy haze which seemed to rim the +entire horizon, and the temperature fell. The barometer was steady at +twenty-nine, point six. Stirling played for a shift of wind which alone +would free the ship from the coming deadlock.</p> +<p class="pnext">He waited, and watched the revolutionists. The dock rat emerged from the +galley door and wiped his mouth with the back of his hand, stared at the +Russians and then toward the quarter-deck. He made no attempt to come +aft, and the evil that was stamped in his face held Stirling rigid.</p> +<p class="pnext">The leader shouted something in Russian, and a hoarse cheer broke from +many throats. A decision had been reached in regard to abandoning the +<em class="italics">Pole Star</em>. Russians to the number of a score sprang forward, ripped +the battings from the fore hatch, and disappeared into the hold. Others +ransacked the galley for food and clothes.</p> +<p class="pnext">A rude sled was devised from part of a whaleboat and rope-yarn +splicings. Upon this the leader climbed and pointed dramatically toward +the low-lying land, slapped the chart with the back of his hand, and +traced out an imaginary course. Stirling leaned far forward and watched +him, amusement, mingled with pity sweeping over his strong face. He +called, and then repeated the call. The leader lowered his chart and +turned.</p> +<p class="pnext">"You're going to your doom!" declared Stirling. "Abandon this ship and +you are lost. There is no way to civilization by the land route!" He +pointed a mittened finger toward the island and the magnetic north.</p> +<p class="pnext">The leader flushed and struck the chart with a sharp blow, sprang from +the sled, and hurried aft. Stirling met him with a cold smile. "I told +you," he said, "that there is no way. No way! Do you understand that?"</p> +<p class="pnext">"There is a——"</p> +<p class="pnext">Stirling thrust the leader from the quarter-deck, then turned and strode +to the companion. Pausing at the hatch, he glanced aloft. Ice had +appeared upon the cap of the mizzenmast, the rigging was coated with +frost, and the wind, from the north and east, held steadily. Its +velocity was not more than eight miles an hour, and it showed signs of +changing some time during the short Arctic night.</p> +<p class="pnext">Stirling went below after sliding open the cabin hatch. Helen Marr stood +by a landward porthole, and she turned and smiled at Stirling, but the +smile died as she saw the sombre light in his eyes. "What happened?" she +asked.</p> +<p class="pnext">"They're going to abandon the ship. It means their death."</p> +<p class="pnext">"Can't you stop them?" The girl had begun to believe that Stirling was +strong enough to accomplish anything.</p> +<p class="pnext">"It would be no use trying," he said, removing his cap and fingering it +with fingers which tingled. "Their minds are made up. The leader thinks +he can reach a Hudson Bay post. He does not know what I know——"</p> +<p class="pnext">Stirling's voice trailed off into an expressive pause, as he thought of +the grim tales he had heard of Banks Land and the Gulf of Boothia. Many +trappers and explorers had laid their bones out on the Arctic wilds. The +land was barren, extending to the white ramparts of the Mackenzie River +on the south and west, and to the Hudson Bay on the east and north. It +was without vegetation or animal life for nine months of the year, and +the water courses were frozen over to the same dead level as the rest of +the world. Only the white fox and the skulking wolf were to be seen, and +these two animals were far too wary to be shot.</p> +<p class="pnext">"They're lost if they leave the ship," said Stirling, waking from his +thoughts. "We'll stay here and winter, if necessary. The ice may crush +the <em class="italics">Pole Star</em>, but we can get enough provisions and fuel ashore to +last out. It might be possible to work to the west next summer in a +whaleboat. It all depends on the season. I never saw one so open as this +one was, but there may never be another like it, Miss Marr."</p> +<p class="pnext">The girl turned toward the porthole, and the cold breeze which cut +through the opening brought colour to her cheeks and fanned her hair.</p> +<p class="pnext">"Is there no chance of getting through to the open sea this summer?" she +asked, shivering slightly and drawing her deerskin jacket about her +slight waist.</p> +<p class="pnext">"Yes, by Heaven; there is a chance!" Stirling's voice rose and filled +the cabin. "There's a fighting chance, Miss Marr!"</p> +<p class="pnext">She turned and stared at him, and her lips formed the question. He laid +his cap on the table and opened his pea-jacket, breathing with giant +gulps of suppressed emotion. Suddenly the air had grown warm to him. "I +can get through," he said, "if within a few hours the wind shifts to the +south and west. That will clear Barrow Strait of ice. Once out of the +Strait, the way is open to Baffin Bay through the Lancaster Sound."</p> +<p class="pnext">Helen Marr clapped her hands, then wheeled with swishing skirts and +stared out through the porthole. "The wind," she said, "is dying. Does +that indicate anything?"</p> +<p class="pnext">"Everything!"</p> +<p class="pnext">"Then the Russians will stay?"</p> +<p class="pnext">"No; they are going. I want a few to remain with us. That dock rat will, +he's too lazy to try for the American continent. Perhaps there are +others who will listen to reason, but the time is short. Maybe through +the leader I can get the case stated to them, and ask for volunteers who +are willing to wait for the wind to shift."</p> +<p class="pnext">Helen Marr glided to the piano and lifted a sealskin coat from its +stool. She thrust her arms into the sleeves of this as Stirling stepped +forward with wonder written across his features.</p> +<p class="pnext">"What are you going to do?" he asked.</p> +<p class="pnext">"Going to see all of them and talk to them. I'm going to make myself +understood in some way. Don't you see, Mr. Stirling, the matter is +serious? If they go, there will be nobody but you and me to work the +ship when the wind shifts. We couldn't do it alone."</p> +<p class="pnext">"Well, it's worth trying," said Stirling. "I'll stand on the +quarter-deck at the weather steps, and you go down to them. Try Slim +first. The leader won't stay, but some of the younger Russians might."</p> +<p class="pnext">The girl pressed a cap upon her head, gathered her hair into a knot, and +ran up the stairs which led to the deck. Stirling picked up a rifle +before he followed her. They stood in the frosty air and glanced +forward. The Russians had lowered the sled and provisions to an ice floe +which had grounded alongside the ship. More ice extended from the floe +to the shore, and three of the revolutionists had already made the +passage. They stood on the beach waving their arms.</p> +<p class="pnext">The girl went down the quarter-deck steps and glided forward over the +main hatch. She touched Slim on the arm, and the dock rat followed her +forward to where the revolutionists were breaking out stores from the +hold.</p> +<p class="pnext">Stirling watched and waited. The Russians took time to listen to the +girl's request, but most of them stared at each other dumbly. She +pointed to the telltale on the mizzenmast, her arm swinging in a +graceful circle and indicating that the wind would change. She finished +her argument by springing to the weather rail and showing where the ice +had cleared from the ship's side.</p> +<p class="pnext">The magic of her voice and soft presence had its influence upon the +Russians, and they gathered and surged, and separated into groups. +Seven, after a shrewd glance toward the barren shore, moved with Slim to +the galley where the leader had stationed himself. These seven raised +their arms and turned toward Stirling.</p> +<p class="pnext">"Come up!" shouted the Ice Pilot, gesturing to help make clear the +meaning of the words.</p> +<p class="pnext">Fear had gripped the hearts of every Russian aboard the <em class="italics">Pole Star</em>; the +unknown sea and the frost which nipped to the bone had driven a panic +within their breasts. The leader had stated that it was possible to +reach a Hudson Bay fort before the setting in of winter, and had added +that the sea would soon be frozen and the ship crushed.</p> +<p class="pnext">They believed this to be the case, and the seven which Helen Marr had +persuaded to remain were in danger from their fellows. Mutiny might +spread. The leader quickly shouted an order, and the boxes and cans were +hurled overboard to the ice floe, the Russians following in a long line. +They stood and glanced upward, their mouths agape, their whiskered faces +white with hoarfrost.</p> +<p class="pnext">"Good-bye!" shouted Stirling, waving the rifle. "Good-bye to you all!"</p> +<p class="pnext">The leader snarled an answer and set about getting the load onto the +sled where there was scant room for one half of the boxes and cans +thrown overside. The remainder was left as the troop started across the +floes and straggled to the beach. Here they turned and watched the ship +as if loath to give it up.</p> +<p class="pnext">The girl climbed swiftly to the quarter-deck to Stirling's side.</p> +<p class="pnext">"Seven stayed," she said, breathlessly. "Seven, and the man from San +Francisco. Didn't I do well?"</p> +<p class="pnext">Stirling smiled down upon her and touched his cap. "Yes, little +captain," he said, gallantly. "You did fine! Tell Slim and four of the +squad—I guess you can make the Russians understand—to jump below and +get steam on in the boilers. Tell the men to bank the fires when they +get well started."</p> +<p class="pnext">The girl touched her forehead with a regulation salute as she turned and +smiled upward from the waist of the ship, then advanced upon the dock +rat and the Russians by the galley door. The Russians understood her +gestures if not her words, and Slim frowned and scratched his matted +head, glancing from Russian to Russian. They had accepted him as their +leader without question, but their sheeplike eyes strayed aft and +fastened upon the grim figure of Stirling.</p> +<p class="pnext">Four followed the sailor to the engine-room companion and went down the +iron ladder. Soon sounds of fires being freshened by new coal came +through the ventilators, and the ship surged and shook as if freeing +itself.</p> +<p class="pnext">Stirling motioned for the three Russians who remained by the galley, and +they followed the girl to the waist of the ship. He leaned over the +quarter-deck canvas and stared at them.</p> +<p class="pnext">The girl climbed the steps and stood by his side. He shielded her with +his body as they waited while the sun glided within the horizon haze. A +frosty nip came with its disappearance, and the lines about Stirling's +lips softened slightly. He turned from the girl and strode to the rail +on the landward side of the ship, where she joined him, and they watched +the Russians streaming in a long line over the snow-mantled island. The +leader turned on the brow of an icy hill and waved farewell; then he was +gone.</p> +<p class="pnext">The wind died to a faint breeze which varied during the hours of +semi-darkness while Stirling and the girl stood the watch. Ice creaked +and splintered to the north and east; the aurora flamed and crimsoned +the heavens, with cold light points dying beneath its glow. The moon +rose with a double ring, revealing its position in the haze, and the +far-off North pack groaned and whispered its grim warning of danger.</p> +</div> +<div class="level-2 section" id="chapter-xxxivthrough-the-driving-snow"> +<h2 class="level-2 pfirst section-title title"><a class="toc-backref pginternal" href="#id35">CHAPTER XXXIV—THROUGH THE DRIVING SNOW</a></h2> +<p class="pfirst">Soon Stirling felt the girl's body close beside him, but she had said no +word for hours. The glory of the Arctic night had held her spellbound; +the beauty of the North enthralled her. She was in tune with the great +wilderness of ice and snow.</p> +<p class="pnext">Suddenly a soft gust of vapour-laden air swung over the island and +pressed the ship toward the true north. This gust was repeated. The +<em class="italics">Pole Star</em> tugged at her anchor chain, the floes parted to leeward, and +a lane of open water showed. This led through the deeper part of Barrow +Strait; it was the road to open sea and Baffin Bay.</p> +<p class="pnext">A Russian forward sang out a warning, leaning over the forepeak rail and +pointing toward the anchor chain.</p> +<p class="pnext">"The wind has veered!" Stirling said, simply.</p> +<p class="pnext">"From the south?" she asked.</p> +<p class="pnext">"No; to the south and west, Miss Marr. We will have open water soon. +See!"</p> +<p class="pnext">Helen Marr moved slowly to the rail and stared with brimming eyes toward +the white sheen of Russel Island, then turned impulsively. "Can't we +save the Russians?" she asked.</p> +<p class="pnext">"No," he answered. "They have gone, perhaps to their doom. At least +there is nothing that we can do for them. For ourselves, we have chosen +the right road. It leads into the open sea!"</p> +<p class="pnext">It was midnight by the ship's clock in the cabin when Stirling climbed +up the companion steps, glanced down at Helen Marr with an assuring nod, +then strode out upon the deck and swung four-square to the task ahead of +him.</p> +<p class="pnext">The sun rimmed the world toward the true west, and through the opal +haze, its glow brought out the details of the drifting ice which was +being driven through Barrow Strait by the south wind.</p> +<p class="pnext">Stirling made a note of this drift, and then moved toward the rail on +the lee side of the ship. The lane of open water, which showed black +against the floes and new ice, led toward the east and Melville Sound.</p> +<p class="pnext">He measured the drift of a passing ice island, sniffed the air, raised +his hand, then turned slowly and glided toward the wheel. Leaning over +the canvas barricade he called down to the waist of the ship, and a form +stirred in the galley's shadow. It was Slim.</p> +<p class="pnext">"Get below!" snapped Stirling. "Get steam on the forward winch. We're +going through the ice!"</p> +<p class="pnext">This terse order rolled along the ship's deck, and brought the remaining +Russians from the warmth of the forecastle. Slim shrugged his shoulders +and slouched for the engine-room companion.</p> +<p class="pnext">Steam soon plumed aft the funnel, when the banked fires were blown into +glowing coals. The winch wheezed and groaned as a Russian unskilfully +turned on the two-way cock. Stirling sprang to the lee steps and dropped +to the waist of the ship, going along the rail like a muffled bear in +search of prey.</p> +<p class="pnext">"Unshackle it!" he shouted into the Russian's ear. "The winch is too +slow. Drive that pin from the anchor chain!"</p> +<p class="pnext">Stirling pointed to where the chain passed through a hawse hole flush +with the deck, and the Russian understood. He lifted a belaying pin from +the rail and drove out the bolt. The anchor chain dropped overside as +Stirling sprang back, glanced forward, then hurried toward the +quarter-deck.</p> +<p class="pnext">Swinging the wheel he reached and jerked the engine-room indicator for +quarter speed. The engines started, the screw thrashed the new ice +astern, and the <em class="italics">Pole Star</em> sheered from the island, driving forward +toward the lane of dark water.</p> +<p class="pnext">The sheathed prow cut sharply as Slim opened wide the main valve and +shouted for more steam. The ship listed, righted, and held a course +between rail-high floes until Stirling steadied the helm. The way was +open down the strait.</p> +<p class="pnext">Helen Marr came through the cabin companion and stood by the nearest +deck light to Stirling, fearing to bother him or to call his name. Her +face was flushed with the agony of the moment, as the grinding floes +under the ship's counter threatened to rip the planks from the ribs. +The swing of Stirling's body as he wrestled with the wheel was a +compelling sight, and held her eyes as she waited. She breathed deeply +of the Arctic air, and called to Stirling, but he did not hear her. His +straining muscles stood out from his neck, and his shoulders lunged and +contracted.</p> +<p class="pnext">The ship plunged on, the funnel belching forth smoke and cinders, which +starred the night like fireflies, and then fell hissing into the sea +astern. The land on the starboard beam rose to a barrier below which the +ice floes curled and eddied.</p> +<p class="pnext">Stirling smashed through, with his unmittened hands gripping the spokes +of the wheel. Ahead showed the silvery glint of the moon. Astern, the +sun mellowed the Arctic world. About was death and cold, gripping +horror.</p> +<p class="pnext">It was the passage that Franklin in the <em class="italics">Erebus</em> and <em class="italics">Terror</em> had sought +in vain, and it was open from sea to sea. Stirling realized this fact as +he reached for the engine-room telegraph and set it for full speed. +There was a chance to drive through before the wind shifted from the +south, but he was attempting a thing that the world called impossible.</p> +<p class="pnext">Four bells came with the <em class="italics">Pole Star</em> swirled in a white curtain of +driving snow which had been born of the south wind. The moon showed as a +silver disk directly over the frosted jib boom, and the sun had been +blotted from the view.</p> +<p class="pnext">Helen Marr moved timidly toward the straining form of the Ice Pilot. He +felt her presence but did not swerve.</p> +<p class="pnext">She whispered into his muffled ear: "Carry on!"</p> +<p class="pnext">Stirling nodded and swung the spokes a quarter turn. They came back +against the palm of his hand, and he peered through the snow. The moon +had a double ring, and it awoke a verse from the girl who stood wrapped +in her furs:</p> +<blockquote><div> +<div class="line-block"> +<div class="line"> +"That orbéd maiden, with white fire laden,</div> +<div class="line-block"> +<div class="line"> +Whom mortals call the moon,</div> +</div> +<div class="line"> +Glides glimmering o'er my fleece-lined floor,</div> +<div class="line-block"> +<div class="line"> +By midnight breezes strewn."</div> +</div> +</div> +</div></blockquote> +<p class="pfirst">Stirling turned his head slightly and smiled with the snow dripping from +his lips. The girl glanced ahead and shuddered as a drifting cloud +obscured the moon. The way was mantled with falling ice particles, and +the ship's rigging showed up ghostlike. The muffled Russians on the +forepeak moved about in the gloom like walruses that had climbed aboard.</p> +<p class="pnext">The <em class="italics">Pole Star</em> hurtled on. Stirling sensed the true direction with the +skill of a master pilot and dodged looming ice floes by fathoms. He +swung the ship toward the magnetic west and reached for the high land +which towered there, then sheered from this into the channel made by the +inky waters. The <em class="italics">Pole Star</em> glided eastward along the meridian, and +thrust her sharp stem through a lane of seething waves which marked the +open reaches of Lancaster Sound.</p> +<p class="pnext">The way to the south—north by the magnetic compass—was also open. +Stirling sensed that it would be possible to drive through the Gulf of +Boothia, and this route might take him to Hudson Bay and Hudson Strait. +He chose the easterly passage and set his feet wide apart as the floes +dashed down upon the staunch ship.</p> +<p class="pnext">Helen Marr leaned over the wheel and watched the binnacle. The compass +whirled and was never still. They were over the true magnetic pole, and +north was south; only the sense of direction told Stirling the course to +steer, but he held on grimly, with his jaw set to a block. The Russians +on the forepeak shouted warnings, waves came over the jib boom and the +forecastle, and the churning vortex of cross currents and storm dashed +the ship like a chip in a whirlpool, while the snow fell in circling +clouds.</p> +<p class="pnext">The passage led to the lee of North Somerset Island, and a towering +headland of basalt protected the ship from the fury of the south wind. A +calm spot showed ahead, through which moonbeams shone.</p> +<p class="pnext">Stirling released one hand from the wheel and pointed. "See," he said. +"See, that is Somerset! We're heading for North Devon Island and +Lancaster Sound. We are already in the Strait. I never knew it was +open!"</p> +<p class="pnext">Open it was, as the girl saw. The moon revealed the serrated outlines of +the land to the southward, where the sharp teeth of the coast range, +which buttressed the shore, stood out bare of ice or snow. It seemed a +huge saw cutting across the top of the world.</p> +<p class="pnext">Stirling breathed deeply and studied the compass, then sheered to the +true north, crashed through a ledge of locked ice, and won the way to an +open lane which led toward the east and Baffin Bay.</p> +<p class="pnext">The girl turned as a light struck across the churning waters, and cried +out as she saw the orange disk of the sun rising in the south. It had +broken through the snow flurry. It revealed the land and Sound, which +were coated in places with the recent snow, and brought out the flying +clouds as they scudded before the south wind.</p> +<p class="pnext">She reached and clasped Stirling's arm. "The sun!" she exclaimed. "See, +our beacon! We shall win through to open sea!"</p> +<p class="pnext">Stirling brought the wheel up and steadied it, smiling down into the +girl's glowing face. She watched him as he braced his legs and threw +back his head, then he turned away from her with a regretful jerk and +leaned down over the binnacle. He straightened up again as she quoted:</p> +<blockquote><div> +<div class="line-block"> +<div class="line"> +"The sanguine sunrise with his meteor eyes</div> +<div class="line-block"> +<div class="line"> +And his burning plumes outspread,</div> +</div> +<div class="line"> +Leaps on the back of my sailing rack</div> +<div class="line-block"> +<div class="line"> +When the morning star shines dead."</div> +</div> +</div> +</div></blockquote> +<p class="pfirst">"The morning star," Stirling said. "It's up there!" He pointed toward +the zenith, and Helen Marr followed the direction of his steady arm, +widening her eyes in amazement as she noted the lodestar almost +overhead. She waited for a cloud to pass and traced out the light points +of the Great Dipper. She saw then that what she had taken for overhead +was fourteen or fifteen degrees from the true vertical line.</p> +<p class="pnext">"We're in about seventy-six degrees," she said, with certainty. "Almost +to the Pole!"</p> +<p class="pnext">Stirling unclasped one hand from the spokes of the wheel and touched the +frosted glass over the binnacle compass. "Run your eyes along the south +line and you'll be looking toward the Pole. It's a long way down there, +Miss Marr. We're trying to work in the other direction."</p> +<p class="pnext">The ship had covered the worst of the passage and the parting floes +showed the road to open sea. Stirling had made no mark of time, but he +realized dimly that Slim and the others who had gone below were getting +the utmost out of the boilers. The screw thrashed at its best speed, and +the smudge of smoke which drifted toward the north blotted out the view +of North Devon Island along which the course had led them.</p> +<p class="pnext">Stirling breathed for the first time, sure of himself. He turned and +smiled at Helen Marr. "Cape Hay," he said, "is somewhere over there!"</p> +<p class="pnext">The girl had never heard of Cape Hay, but shielding herself by the +ice-coated shrouds of the mizzen rigging, she strained her eyes toward +the south and east. Clouds showed beneath the silver reflection of the +moon, and a darker line was below the clouds. It rose in one point to a +headland.</p> +<p class="pnext">She came back across the slippery deck and nodded. "I see it," she said +into his ear. "It's a long way off, Mr. Stirling."</p> +<p class="pnext">Stirling smiled and nodded toward the binnacle. "We're on the course," +he said. "How about a little coffee, Miss Marr?"</p> +<p class="pnext">She was gone across the quarter-deck and down the cabin companion in an +instant.</p> +<p class="pnext">Stirling opened two buttons of his pea-jacket and drew forth his great +silver watch. It was running, but the hours which had passed were +effaced from his memory. He had stood at the wheel for seven tricks, but +the distant Cape was thirty miles away through the driving snow. The +wind was shifting toward the west and abeam, and he knew that it would +be nip and tuck if he were to gain the open waters of Baffin Bay.</p> +</div> +<div class="level-2 section" id="chapter-xxxva-matter-of-minutes"> +<h2 class="level-2 pfirst section-title title"><a class="toc-backref pginternal" href="#id36">CHAPTER XXXV—A MATTER OF MINUTES</a></h2> +<p class="pfirst">The floes through which Stirling guided the ship became larger and +higher. Old "grandpas" drifted by—their sides honeycombed by the action +of the water. These floes had broken from the true pack and had come +south through Smith Sound. Icebergs were to be expected, since the coast +of Greenland was filled with glaciers. Stirling peered forward and +searched the sea, momentarily expecting to glimpse a white barrier +beyond which he could not go, but none showed as the watch lengthened.</p> +<p class="pnext">The girl appeared with a steaming can of black coffee, and also biscuits +and bread. Stirling set the can on the top of the brass binnacle hood +and munched a biscuit, eying Helen Marr with concern. Dark circles +showed upon her face, her lips had lost some of their blood, and tiny +puckers ran from the corners of her mouth.</p> +<p class="pnext">He moved the wheel and said to her, "Please get some sleep. You look +tired, Miss Marr. I'll hold on!"</p> +<p class="pnext">She laughed, drawing close her deerskin jacket, and reaching for the +spokes. "Let me steer?" she asked. "It isn't so bad now. I can hold the +course."</p> +<p class="pnext">"Keep her steady, then!" said Stirling with a smile, releasing the +spokes and staring at the compass. "Steady, she is, while I go forward. +There's a lane of open water ahead somewhere. We must find it."</p> +<p class="pnext">She nodded, stared at the binnacle, and the spokes moved slowly and in +the right direction as Stirling crossed the deck and descended to the +waist of the ship. He paused a moment at the galley house and glanced +in. Two Russians stood by the stove, cooking a mess for the engine-room +crew.</p> +<p class="pnext">Stirling nodded and worked his way forward over the icy deck. He climbed +up the weather shrouds and out and over the cross jack, dropping into +the crow's-nest.</p> +<p class="pnext">Floes were scattered over the waters of Lancaster Sound near where it +reached Baffin Bay. The wind had driven a mass of ice up through Prince +Regent Inlet, and its reaching fangs threatened to dash the ship ashore +on North Devon Island.</p> +<p class="pnext">Stirling with his binoculars swept the entire horizon. The wind had +shifted a point over the hour, and now came from over the high plateau +of Baffin Land, as it circled to the magnetic north and the true west. +This would close Lancaster Sound so that no ship could drive a passage +through.</p> +<p class="pnext">Reaching forward, Stirling rested his elbows upon the edge of the +crow's-nest and strained his eyes toward the opening which showed in the +direction of Cape Hay and Baffin Bay. It was partly choked with ice, and +a low berg loomed in the haze.</p> +<p class="pnext">Turning, Stirling called down to Helen Marr, and the order he gave was +to put the wheel up and then steady it. The new course was more toward +the true south than the east, and was calculated to head off the +reaching arm of ice which threatened to close Lancaster Sound.</p> +<p class="pnext">After a last glance over the wild waste of waters and snow-mantled +lands, Stirling swung out of the crow's-nest and started toward the +deck. Icicles and frozen patches of snow fell from the shrouds as the +ship swerved and steadied on the given course. Stirling saw that the +girl had avoided a floe by a skillful lift of the wheel.</p> +<p class="pnext">This fact cheered him. He had a companion who was doing her best, a true +friend to a sailorman who had broken through to a desperate sea. He went +down the remainder of the shrouds and over the deck with his head +lowered in thought. The chance to save the ship was slight, and it would +call for all his cunning in ice work. The fangs were being bared for the +final nip. Already the floes had thickened ahead.</p> +<p class="pnext">"I'll take the wheel," he said as he stepped to her side. "You go below +for an hour. Then I shall call you."</p> +<p class="pnext">"Is there any danger?"</p> +<p class="pnext">"We'll either be nipped within two hours, or we will gain the Northeast +Passage. Baffin Bay lies ahead!"</p> +<p class="pnext">"Then I'll stay on deck!" declared the girl. "I'll stay right by your +side!"</p> +<p class="pnext">Stirling took the wheel and set the course a point more toward the +south. He was between the alternative of striking directly toward the +swinging arm of ice which was closing the sound like a door, or seeking +a narrow passage between the giant field and the forbidding coast near +Cape Hay. He chose the latter.</p> +<p class="pnext">The hour that followed drove the spike of fear into the Russians' +hearts. The engine-room crew, led by Slim, left the fires in order to +peer through the companion, and were forced back by the menace in +Stirling's voice.</p> +<p class="pnext">The ship met the giant floes, backed, reeled, and drove on, threading +through the new ice and gaining open patches of water which closed +behind. Bergs drifted down upon them, but Stirling avoided the shelving +spires and worked toward the south and east.</p> +<p class="pnext">Snow flurries blotted out all view; the wind swung from the true west to +the north, and held in its grip the icy cold of winter. It struck +through the girl's furs and chilled her body, as she walked back and +forth along the quarter-deck watching Stirling, who seemed possessed +with a Viking's rage at the elements gathered about. His one aim was to +guide the ship between the Cape and the ice field. Open water still +showed ahead of this narrow passage.</p> +<p class="pnext">The <em class="italics">Pole Star</em> swirled in the current and ran down the wind which was +now abeam. A leaden pall crept over the surface of the watery world, and +the ice floes ground against the skin of the ship and obstructed the +way. Stirling shaded his eyes from the snow and peered forward. The ice +had gathered upon the spokes of the wheel, and a sleet drove from aft to +forward.</p> +<p class="pnext">Gripped by the majesty of their danger, the girl watched Stirling and +prayed for deliverance. She knew that the reaching arm had overtaken the +driving ship. It was a matter of minutes now whether they would gain the +waters of Baffin Bay or be crushed between the floes and the rocky +headland. A single screw's turn might decide the matter.</p> +<p class="pnext">The ship staggered and swerved; a crash sounded as the sharp stem +mounted a floe. The world seemed to the girl to spin, as Stirling +reached downward, grasped the spokes, and lifted the wheel so that the +staggering ship could turn from the land. He sheered in the moment of +time, and the spars grated along the overhang of basalt.</p> +<p class="pnext">Suddenly Stirling stiffened and rapidly twirled the wheel, leaned far +over the spokes, and watched the waters ahead of the <em class="italics">Pole Star</em>. A rift +showed through the floes, and toward this he steered. The last of the +reaching ice sprang landward, leaped the distance, and drove its teeth +toward the ship. It missed by a scant cable's length, and the crash and +reverberation as this ice was dashed upon the shore woke Helen Marr from +her prayers. She staggered to her feet, and stood swaying on the +slippery deck. Stirling had swung and was staring at her, his strong +face covered with a broad smile.</p> +<p class="pnext">He turned the spokes by instinct as he continued to look at her. "Look," +he said, pointing a steady finger aft. "Look, Miss Marr!"</p> +<p class="pnext">She wheeled and looked over the taffrail of the <em class="italics">Pole Star</em>. Ice, piled +upon ice, blocked the passage through which they had come. The roar of +the great North pack was like a baffled horde held at bay. The ship +plunged on and out into open water.</p> +<p class="pnext">"Where are we?" she asked, pressing a hand to her forehead. "Where are +we, Mr. Stirling?"</p> +<p class="pnext">The Ice Pilot smiled, swung, steadied the wheel, and motioned over the +wild world of tossing waves. "That's Baffin Bay!" he said. "We have made +the Northeast Passage!"</p> +</div> +<div class="level-2 section" id="chapter-xxxviacross-the-cabin"> +<h2 class="level-2 pfirst section-title title"><a class="toc-backref pginternal" href="#id37">CHAPTER XXXVI—ACROSS THE CABIN</a></h2> +<p class="pfirst">Helen Marr glided to the canvas rail that overlooked the waist of the +<em class="italics">Pole Star</em>, brushed the hair from her face, and wrung the water from +her mittens.</p> +<p class="pnext">Then she turned to Stirling with a high toss of her chin. "Are you going +across?" she asked.</p> +<p class="pnext">"To Greenland, miss."</p> +<p class="pnext">"But why not south and—home?"</p> +<p class="pnext">Stirling moved the wheel a spoke and blocked it with his knee, pointing +toward the shores of Baffin Land.</p> +<p class="pnext">The girl cried aloud as she saw the reason for the Ice Pilot's course. +Ice backed by more ice was rushing northward; winter had arrived, and +new floes and bergs were forming in the west. There was no route to the +southward, and the ship held the only open lane.</p> +<p class="pnext">"Greenland," she said with hesitancy. "But Greenland is as wild as that +coast." She pointed over the <em class="italics">Pole Star's</em> quarter.</p> +<p class="pnext">Stirling smiled and removed his knee from the wheel. He changed the +course more to the true north, and the ship plunged on as Slim and the +Russians realized that they had escaped from the white jaws of an icy +death.</p> +<p class="pnext">"Greenland," said Stirling, "is Heaven compared to Baffin Land. You +shall see."</p> +<p class="pnext">The girl hesitated and glanced at Stirling, who was consulting the +binnacle, reaching an arm through the spokes of the wheel and wiping the +glass with his bare fingers. A tiny light showed over the compass as the +wheel moved with a slow lifting of the starboard rope.</p> +<p class="pnext">The ship steadied, a halo of smoke and flame crowning the single funnel. +Slim, the Frisco dock rat, was redeeming himself, and his voice rolled +up through the ventilators as he urged the Russians in the stokehold to +renewed efforts.</p> +<p class="pnext">Stirling partly turned his face and watched the girl, who soon was gone +over the quarter-deck with a faint nod backward. The closing companion +slide told Stirling that she had been slightly offended by his +preoccupied manner, and wondered at this as he stared with unseeing eyes +out over the waters of Baffin Bay.</p> +<p class="pnext">Hour after hour he guided the ship, a lone figure wrapped in thought and +retrospection. He knew nothing of women; he felt that Helen Marr was as +remote as the stars above him, and he had grown to look upon her as a +companion—that was all. He feared to trust his mind to go more deeply +into the matter.</p> +<p class="pnext">The course he had chosen revealed the hand of a super-pilot. The +grinding floes to leeward were blown by the wind in such a manner as to +leave an open lane between them and the pack which was rushing to fill +the Bay. The last days of the open season had arrived; a week, at the +most, would see the water frozen over and cemented into an icy lock +which would hold until the next July.</p> +<p class="pnext">There was a limit to his endurance—strong man as he was. A swerve of +the ship—the running off a full point—brought the truth home to him +that he had been asleep. He woke and gathered himself together with a +shrug of his shoulders, only soon to doze again. The ship went off the +course, crashed against a drifting floe, and a Russian called a warning +from the forepeak.</p> +<p class="pnext">Stirling stiffened and twirled the spokes in time to avoid an ice island +of an acre's extent. He stared upward, as if in the heavens would be +found inspiration, and the haze of sky and snow and whirling sleet +allowed the faint light of the sun to penetrate its veil. He calculated +the sun's position, and drew out his watch, remembering the drift of the +currents in Baffin Bay. It might be necessary to take a lunar or solar +observation before he reached the Greenland shore, which was more than a +day's steaming to the eastward.</p> +<p class="pnext">Grimly Stirling blocked the wheel, replaced his watch, rose on tiptoes, +and called the Russian from the forepeak. Fortunately, this lookout had +some slight knowledge of steering. He climbed the steps on the leeward +side and touched his cap.</p> +<p class="pnext">Stirling pointed at the binnacle. "Keep that course," he said. "Do you +understand?"</p> +<p class="pnext">The Russian grinned and grasped the spokes of the wheel. Stirling +stepped back a foot or more and watched the jib boom of the ship as it +hung steady above the dark waters, then staggered toward the cabin +companion. Down this he went, paused irresolutely in the light which +streamed from the deck cluster, then pitched across a divan which was +between two closed portholes, and sank into the deepest slumber of his +life.</p> +<p class="pnext">He awoke as if his sleep had been but a moment. Every limb ached. He +glanced upward and saw Helen Marr standing over him, her expression +intent and compassionate. She opened her lips, but did not speak, and +her eyes travelled over Stirling's features, then swung toward the +table. A steaming pot of coffee stood there, and beside it were biscuits +and potted beef.</p> +<p class="pnext">Stirling staggered to his feet and felt around with his hands. His coat +had been removed while he slept; a pillow lay where his head had been, +and the divan was partly covered with a Navaho blanket.</p> +<p class="pnext">He realized that she had covered him up, and he appreciated, too, her +thoughtful attention in keeping warm the coffee.</p> +<p class="pnext">Stirling stepped to the table and turned. "Thank you," he said.</p> +<p class="pnext">She smiled with comradeship and came across the cabin. "I've been on +deck," said she, pointing toward the cabin companion. "The sun is on +the ice, and the Russian is still holding the course you gave him."</p> +<p class="pnext">Stirling looked at his pocket; he had slept thirteen hours. Soon he +began to eat, now and then glancing at the girl by his side. He finished +without words and entered Marr's cabin. When he emerged, ten minutes +later, his chin was clean shaven and his hair parted.</p> +<p class="pnext">He crammed some tobacco into a cord-wrapped pipe, found his cap and +coat, and turned toward her as he placed one foot on the steps leading +to the cabin companion. "Are you coming up?" he asked.</p> +<p class="pnext">"Do you want me to?"</p> +<p class="pnext">Stirling smiled. "You're my first mate," he said. "You and I shall +finish the passage to Greenland. We should reach Upernivik by midnight."</p> +<p class="pnext">"Is that a port?" Her voice had taken on new strength as she watched +him.</p> +<p class="pnext">"Yes," he answered. "About the only place we can safely winter. Are you +sorry I didn't try for Davis Strait and the North Atlantic?"</p> +<p class="pnext">"You knew best," she declared, turning away from his level glance. "I +shall be on deck in ten minutes," she added, softly.</p> +<p class="pnext">Stirling thrust his head and shoulders above the cabin companion and +studied the scene on the deck. The Russian drowsed at the wheel, with +his body leaning over the spokes; the funnel was still mantled with a +rolling cloud of smoke; two of the revolutionists stood forward by the +break of the forecastle peak, keeping watch.</p> +<p class="pnext">Crossing the icy planks, Stirling touched the Russian on the shoulder +and motioned for him to go forward and get some sleep. Stirling's smile +was so contagious that the Russian thrust out his hand impulsively, and +Stirling grasped it with fervour.</p> +<p class="pnext">He looked at the binnacle and then swept the sea, his eyes widening in +calculation. The lane of open water stretched east and west across +Baffin Bay. South, by the glint on the horizon haze, ice was gathered +for the closing in of winter. Northward, bergs and floes showed, +marshalled in squadrons and companies like soldiers preparing for a +charge. The sky, seen through the falling snow, was leaden.</p> +<p class="pnext">With some slight trepidation, Stirling awaited the coming of Helen Marr. +She had acted strangely of late. They were to be thrown together during +the ten months of winter at Upernivik; there would be no possible escape +to a more civilized community.</p> +<p class="pnext">Slim, the Frisco dock rat, appeared at the railing of the engine-room +companion. He emerged to the deck and walked aft, his face grimy. Up the +quarter-deck steps he came—on the leeward side, out of deference to +Stirling.</p> +<p class="pnext">Slim glanced forward, and swung his head as he reached the wheel. +"Thought I'd sort of apologize," he said, thrusting out his hand. "I'm +with you all the way now for what you did."</p> +<p class="pnext">Stirling released his hand from the spokes and clasped the dock rat's +fingers. "Keep up steam the way you have and I've no kick coming," said +the Ice Pilot. "We should reach winter quarters by midnight."</p> +<p class="pnext">Slim went forward and disappeared down the engine-room companion. The +Russians on the forecastle head, who had seen the attitude of the two +men, raised their arms and waved, then turned to faithful duty as +lookouts. Peace had settled on the former poacher.</p> +<p class="pnext">Stirling studied the back of one of these Russians as he waited for +Helen Marr to appear. Ivan, he was called. It was Ivan, of the Russians +from the province of the Don Cossacks, who had stood the long trick +while Stirling slept. The Ice Pilot made a note of this.</p> +</div> +<div class="level-2 section" id="chapter-xxxviithe-calling-beacon"> +<h2 class="level-2 pfirst section-title title"><a class="toc-backref pginternal" href="#id38">CHAPTER XXXVII—THE CALLING BEACON</a></h2> +<p class="pfirst">The companion slide opened suddenly and Helen Marr emerged from the +cabin. She stood in furs and close-drawn cap as Stirling swung the wheel +and looked at her. She surveyed the wild waste of dark waters with a +thoughtful pucker on her brow before she came to his side. Then her eyes +lifted to the faint light which streamed from the leaden vault of +heaven. The sun was rimming the horizon behind the veil of mist.</p> +<p class="pnext">For hours the two stood side by side, Stirling keeping the course with +easy movements. The ship threaded in and out of small ice floes which +were gathering by mutual attraction.</p> +<p class="pnext">There was the smell of land in the air. The seals sported and dived +before the dark form of the onrushing ship, and walrus and killer whales +appeared within the lane of water. Birds wheeled and circled the frosted +spars that moved through the mist.</p> +<p class="pnext">Stirling sensed that they were nearing the shores of Greenland. He rose +on tiptoe and peered ahead, where a darker mass, broken here and there +by ice fields, came out of the haze. It was indented by fiords and +inlets.</p> +<p class="pnext">He turned to the girl. "No chance to take an observation," he said. +"We're going to run a bit down the coast. I think I can make the +headland at Upernivik. There should be lights there."</p> +<p class="pnext">She nodded her head and fastened upon him the fine glance of a comrade +to a comrade. "I'll steer," she suggested, holding out her hands.</p> +<p class="pnext">Stirling shook his head slowly, leaned away from her, and bent over the +binnacle, then changed the course of the <em class="italics">Pole Star</em> until the dark +coast was over the port bow. Holding this course, he waited and strained +his eyes for some sign of light.</p> +<p class="pnext">He heard the beat of waves within the coves, a glacier separated, and +the sound of the falling berg thundered far out to sea. The ship rocked +and trembled in the swiftly running waves; then it steadied and crept +closer to land. They glided like a dream thing in the shadow of a haven. +An opal citadel took the place of the leaden vault, as the moon rose in +the south and east and bathed the fast-flying clouds with a pale, unreal +light. Through these clouds white stars shone and twinkled.</p> +<p class="pnext">"We're near Upernivik!" said Stirling as midnight approached. "Keep a +sharp lookout for lights, Miss Marr."</p> +<p class="pnext">His voice troubled her, and his use of the "Miss Marr" instead of a more +familiar name caused her to creep closer to the wheel.</p> +<p class="pnext">"What are we going to do?" she asked, vaguely.</p> +<p class="pnext">"Winter at Upernivik and go out in the spring."</p> +<p class="pnext">"But won't that be many long months?"</p> +<p class="pnext">"Nine or ten," said Stirling, rubbing his eyes with the back of his +right hand and turning toward her. "There is nothing else to do," he +added. "We can save the ship that way. The <em class="italics">Pole Star</em> belongs to +you—now."</p> +<p class="pnext">A flush swept over her cheeks, and she reached up her mittened hands, +brushing her hair back from her ears. "Let the Russian steer," she +suggested. "Let him steer and you and I can talk by the rail."</p> +<p class="pnext">Stirling noted the course, then called forward. Ivan turned and hurried +aft, coming over the break of the quarter-deck with his hand on his cap.</p> +<p class="pnext">"Steady, as she is," said Stirling, releasing the spokes. "Watch for +lights ashore. Upernivik—you understand?"</p> +<p class="pnext">The Russian nodded. Helen Marr and the Ice Pilot moved aft and stood by +the taffrail as the ship glided on with its jib boom parallel to the +sombre Greenland shore.</p> +<p class="pnext">The girl turned her face away from Stirling's and looked over the +taffrail where the silver phosphorescence of the wake was broken in +countless places by the reaching waves. The moon had emerged from the +clouds, and it scudded along as if driven by silver sails, its rays +illuminating the quarter-deck.</p> +<p class="pnext">Stirling felt strangely troubled in the presence of the silent girl. He +stepped back a foot, then came forward with the roll of the ship, as her +hand reached out and rested upon the taffrail.</p> +<p class="pnext">Through the citadel the <em class="italics">Pole Star</em> glided under half steam. A faint +roar of running waters came from the shore, and there was the echoing of +waves on the shelving beaches. The headland toward which the ship +steered was rounded, and beyond, like a jewel in a locket, glistened a +sapphire light.</p> +<p class="pnext">"Upernivik!" said Stirling.</p> +<p class="pnext">The girl nodded her head, turning away from the land and staring at the +surface of Baffin Bay. Then her eyes fastened upon Stirling's and in +them he read the secret of her silence. He flushed and raised his hand +to his smooth-shaven chin, then lowered it and reached forward timidly.</p> +<p class="pnext">"Look!" she said, suddenly.</p> +<p class="pnext">Stirling stiffened his arm and turned. He saw the spire of a little +church on the beach in the cove, where it showed against the snow of the +hillside like a calling beacon.</p> +<p class="pnext">"Starboard half a point," said Stirling to the wheelsman.</p> +<p class="pnext">The Russian swung the wheel, and the girl still stared at the glistening +spire, parting her lips to whisper:</p> +<p class="pnext">"A house of worship—a church."</p> +<p class="pnext">Stirling thrust out his hand and covered her fingers where they rested +on the rail of the ship. She allowed them to remain there, and a glad +warmth mingled and surged through their bodies.</p> +<p class="pnext">The ship plowed on within the land ice which crunched under the sharp +bow. Stirling glanced upward and saw the white spire against the dark +clouds which had been driven across the snowy mountains of Greenland.</p> +<p class="pnext">Then he clasped the girl's fingers as he drew her to him, and he felt +her heated breath when their lips met.</p> +<p class="center pnext">THE END</p> +<hr class="docutils"/> +<p class="pfirst x-large">BOOKS BY HENRY LEVERAGE</p> +<blockquote><div> +<div class="line-block"> +<div class="line"> +<cite class="italics">Ice Pilot, The</cite></div> +<div class="line"> +<cite class="italics">Shepherd of the Sea, The</cite></div> +<div class="line"> +<cite class="italics">Where Dead Men Walk</cite></div> +<div class="line"> +<cite class="italics">Whispering Wires</cite></div> +<div class="line"> +<cite class="italics">White Cipher, The</cite></div> +</div> +</div></blockquote> +<div class="vspace" style="height: 5em"> +</div> +<div>*** END OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK 35518 ***</div> +</body> +</html> |