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diff --git a/44037-0.txt b/44037-0.txt new file mode 100644 index 0000000..703fb5e --- /dev/null +++ b/44037-0.txt @@ -0,0 +1,7904 @@ +*** START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK 44037 *** + +Note: Project Gutenberg also has an HTML version of this + file which includes the original illustrations. + See 44037-h.htm or 44037-h.zip: + (http://www.gutenberg.org/files/44037/44037-h/44037-h.htm) + or + (http://www.gutenberg.org/files/44037/44037-h.zip) + + + Images of the original pages are available through + Internet Archive. See + https://archive.org/details/adventuresofbill00duncuoft + + + + + +THE ADVENTURES OF BILLY TOPSAIL + + + * * * * * + +_THE WORKS OF_ + +NORMAN DUNCAN + +_Second Edition_ + +The Mother + + A Novelette of New York Life. 12mo, cloth, $1.25, de + Luxe, $2.00 net. + + "Another book quite unlike 'Dr. Luke' in environment, + but very like it in its intuitive understandings of the + natures of the lowly and obscure . . . holds the reader + spellbound."--_Nashville American._ + + +_Twenty-fifth Thousand_ + +Doctor Luke of the Labrador + + 12mo, cloth, $1.50. + + "Norman Duncan has fulfilled all that was expected + of him in this story; it established him beyond + question as one of the strong masters of the present + day."--_Brooklyn Eagle._ + + +_Fourth Edition_ + +Dr. Grenfell's Parish + + Illustrated. Cloth, $1.00 net. + + "He tells vividly and picturesquely many of the things + done by Dr. Grenfell and his associates. They have + a distinct literary tone. It is splendid, heroic + work that Dr. Grenfell and his fellows are doing as + missionaries of humanity and civilization in a field + that is painfully near home."--_N. Y. Sun._ + + + FLEMING H. REVELL COMPANY + _Publishers_ + + + * * * * * + + +[Illustration: HIS CLOTHES WERE FROZEN STIFF, AND HE HAD TO BEAT THEM +ON THE ICE TO SOFTEN THEM.] + + +THE ADVENTURES OF BILLY TOPSAIL + +by + +NORMAN DUNCAN + +Author of "Doctor Luke of The Labrador," +"The Mother," "Dr. Grenfell's Parish" + +Illustrated + + + + + + + +[Illustration] + +New York Chicago Toronto +Fleming H. Revell Company +London and Edinburgh + +Copyright, 1906, by +Fleming H. Revell Company + +New York: 158 Fifth Avenue +Chicago: 80 Wabash Avenue +Toronto: 27 Richmond Street, W. +London: 21 Paternoster Square +Edinburgh: 100 Princes Street + + + + + _J. K._ + + + + + _To the editors of the "Youth's Companion" the author's + thanks are due for the permission to reprint much of + the contents of this book._ + + + + +_To the Boy who Reads the Book_ + + +YOU must not be surprised because the adventures of Billy Topsail and +a few of his friends fill this book. If _all_ the adventures of these +real boys were written the record would fill many books. This is not +hard to explain. The British Colony of Newfoundland lies to the north +of the Gulf of St. Lawrence and to the east of the Canadian Labrador. +It is so situated that the inhabitants may not escape adventures. +On the map, it looks bleak and far away and inhospitable--a lonely +island, outlying in the stormy water of the Atlantic. Indeed, it is +all that. The interior is a vast wilderness--a waste place. The folk +are fishermen all. They live on the coast, in little harbours, remote, +widely scattered, not connected by roads; communication is only by way +of the sea. They are hospitable, fearless, tender, simple, willing for +toil; and, surely, little else can be said of a people. Long, long ago, +their forbears first strayed up that forbidding shore in chase of the +fish; and the succeeding generations, though such men as we are, have +there lived their lives, apart from the world's comforts and delights +as we know them. The land is barren; sustenance is from the sea, which +is moody and cold and gray: thus life in that far place has many perils +and deprivations and toilsome duties. The boys of the outports are like +English-speaking boys the world over. They are merry or not, brave or +not, kind or not, as boys go; but it may be that they are somewhat +merrier and braver and kinder than boys to whom self-reliance and +physical courage are less needful. At any rate, they have adventures, +every one of them; and that is not surprising--for the conditions of +life are such that every Newfoundland lad intimately knows hardship and +peril at an age when the boys of the cities still grasp a hand when +they cross the street. + + N. D. + +New York, _September, 1906_. + + + + +CONTENTS + + + CHAPTER I 11 + + In which young Billy Topsail of Ruddy Cove puts out to his first + adventure with his dog in the bow of the punt. + + + CHAPTER II 19 + + Concerning the behaviour of Billy Topsail and his dog in the + water when the _Never Give Up_ went to the bottom, and + closing with an apology and a wag of the tail. + + + CHAPTER III 26 + + Describing the haunts and habits of devil-fish and informing + the reader of Billy Topsail's determination to make a + capture at all hazards. + + + CHAPTER IV 34 + + Recounting the adventure of the giant squid of Chain Tickle, + in which the punt gets in the grip of a gigantic tentacle + and Billy Topsail strikes with an axe. + + + CHAPTER V 44 + + On the face of the cliff: Wherein Billy Topsail gets lost + in a perilous place and sits down to recover his + composure. + + + CHAPTER VI 52 + + In which Billy Topsail loses his nerve. Wherein, also, the + wings of gulls seem to brush past. + + + CHAPTER VII 59 + + In which Billy Topsail hears the fur trader's story of a + jigger and a cake of ice in the wind. + + + CHAPTER VIII 69 + + In the offshore gale: In which Billy Topsail goes seal + hunting and is swept to sea with the floe. + + + CHAPTER IX 78 + + In which old Tom Topsail burns his punt and Billy wanders in + the night and three lives hang on a change of wind. + + + CHAPTER X 86 + + How Billy Topsail's friend Bobby Lot joined fortunes with + Eli Zitt and whether or not he proved worthy of the + partnership. + + + CHAPTER XI 93 + + Bobby Lot learns to swim and Eli Zitt shows amazing courage + and self-possession and strength. + + + CHAPTER XII 104 + + Containing the surprising adventure of Eli Zitt's little + partner on the way back from Fortune Harbour, in which + a Newfoundland dog displays a saving intelligence. + + + CHAPTER XIII 116 + + In which Billy Topsail sets sail for the Labrador, the + _Rescue_ strikes an iceberg, and Billy is commanded to + pump for his life. + + + CHAPTER XIV 123 + + Faithfully narrating the amazing experiences of a + Newfoundland schooner and describing Billy Topsail's + conduct in a sinking boat. + + + CHAPTER XV 131 + + In which the Ruddy Cove doctor tells Billy Topsail and + a stranger how he came to learn that the longest way + 'round is sometimes the shortest way home. + + + CHAPTER XVI 142 + + Describing how Billy Topsail set out for Ruddy Cove with + Her Majesty's Mail and met with catastrophe. + + + CHAPTER XVII 151 + + Billy Topsail wrings out his clothes and finds himself + cut off from shore by thirty yards of heaving ice. + + + CHAPTER XVIII 159 + + In which Billy Topsail joins the whaler _Viking_ and a + school is sighted. + + + CHAPTER XIX 164 + + In which the chase is kept up and the captain promises + himself a kill. + + + CHAPTER XX 172 + + The mate of the fin-back whale rises for the last time, + with a blood-red sunset beyond, and Billy Topsail + says, "Too bad!" + + + CHAPTER XXI 176 + + In which Billy Topsail goes fishing in earnest. Concerning, + also, Feather's Folly of the Devil's Teeth, Mary + Robinson, and the wreck of the _Fish Killer_. + + + CHAPTER XXII 184 + + The crew of the _Fish Killer_ finds refuge on an iceberg + and discovers greater safety elsewhere, after which + the cook is mistaken for a fool, but puts the crew + to shame. + + + CHAPTER XXIII 196 + + In which the clerk of the trader _Tax_ yarns of a madman + in the cabin. + + + CHAPTER XXIV 208 + + In which a pirate's cave grows interesting, and two young + members of the Ethnological and Antiquarian Club of + St. John's, undertake an adventure under the guidance + of Billy Topsail. + + + CHAPTER XXV 216 + + In which there is a landslide at Little Tickle Basin and + something of great interest and peculiar value is + discovered in the cave. + + + CHAPTER XXVI 223 + + In which Billy Topsail determines to go to the ice in the + spring of the year, and young Archibald Armstrong of + St. John's is permitted to set out upon an adventure + which promises to be perilous and profitable. + + + CHAPTER XXVII 231 + + While Billy Topsail is about his own business Archie + Armstrong stands on the bridge of the _Dictator_ and + Captain Hand orders "Full speed ahead!" on the stroke + of twelve. + + + CHAPTER XXVIII 238 + + In which Archie Armstrong falls in with Bill o' Burnt Bay + and Billy Topsail of Ruddy Cove, and makes a speech. + + + CHAPTER XXIX 246 + + Billy Topsail is shipped upon conditions, and the + _Dictator_, in a rising gale, is caught in a field of + drift ice, with a growler to leeward. + + + CHAPTER XXX 255 + + In which Archie Armstrong and Billy Topsail have an exciting + encounter with a big dog hood, and, at the sound of + alarm, leave the issue in doubt, while the ice goes + abroad and the enemy goes swimming. + + + CHAPTER XXXI 264 + + The _Dictator_ charges an ice pan and loses a main topmast. + + + CHAPTER XXXII 272 + + In which seals are sighted and Archie Armstrong has a + narrow chance in the crow's-nest. + + + CHAPTER XXXIII 279 + + The ice runs red, and, in storm and dusk, Tim Tuttle + brews a pot o' trouble for Captain Hand, while Billy + Topsail observes the operation. + + + CHAPTER XXXIV 287 + + In which Tim Tuttle's shaft flies straight for the mark. + The crews of the _Dictator_ and _Lucky Star_ declare + war, and Captain Hand is threatened with the shame of + dishonour, while young Billy Topsail, who has the + solution of the difficulty, is in the hold of the ship. + + + CHAPTER XXXV 296 + + In which the issue is determined. + + + CHAPTER XXXVI 302 + + It appears that the courage and strength of the son of a + colonial knight are to be tried. The hunters are caught + in a great storm. + + + CHAPTER XXXVII 308 + + In which the men are lost, the _Dictator_ is nipped and + Captain Hand sobs, "Poor Sir Archibald!" + + + CHAPTER XXXVIII 317 + + And last: In which wind and snow and cold have their way + and death lands on the floe. Billy Topsail gives + himself to a gust of wind, and Archie Armstrong finds + peril and hardship stern teachers. Concerning, also, + a new sloop, a fore-an'-after and a tailor's lay figure. + + + + +LIST OF ILLUSTRATIONS + + + FACING + PAGE + + HIS CLOTHES WERE FROZEN STIFF, AND HE HAD TO BEAT THEM ON + THE ICE TO SOFTEN THEM _Title_ + + BILLY RAISED HIS HAND AS IF TO STRIKE HIM 20 + + THEN LIKE A FLASH IT SHOT TOWARDS THE BOAT 38 + + "JUMPED LIKE A STAG FOR THE SECOND PAN" 62 + + BILLY STAGGERED INTO THE CIRCLE OF LIGHT 82 + + "SHE'S LOST," HE THOUGHT. "LOST WITH ALL HANDS" 126 + + "MY LITTLE LAD'S WONDERFUL SICK. COME QUICK!" 132 + + "IT IS A DEAD W'ALE!" 174 + + HE WAS NEAR THE END OF THE SIXTEENTH VERSE 245 + + THEN HE ADVANCED UPON THE BOY 261 + + "LASH YOUR TOWS, B'YS," SAID BILL. "LEAVE THE REST GO" 305 + + "WE'RE SAVED!" SAID BILL 326 + + + The publishers acknowledge the courtesy of _The + Youth's Companion_ and _Outing_ for the use of various + illustrations appearing originally in these periodicals. + + + + +THE ADVENTURES OF BILLY TOPSAIL + + + + +CHAPTER I + + _In Which Young Billy Topsail of Ruddy Cove Puts Out to + His First Adventure with His Dog in the Bow of the + Punt_ + + +FROM the very beginning it was inevitable that Billy Topsail should +have adventures. He was a fisherman's son, born at Ruddy Cove, which +is a fishing harbour on the bleak northeast coast of Newfoundland; and +there was nothing else for it. All Newfoundland boys have adventures; +but not all Newfoundland boys survive them. And there came, in the +course of the day's work and play, to Billy Topsail, many adventures. +The first--the first real adventure in which Billy Topsail was +abandoned to his own wit and strength--came by reason of a gust of wind +and his own dog. It was not strange that a gust of wind should overturn +Billy Topsail's punt; but that old Skipper should turn troublesome in +the thick of the mess was an event the most unexpected. . . . + + * * * * * + +Skipper was a Newfoundland dog, born of reputable parents at Back Arm +and decently bred in Ruddy Cove. He had black hair, short, straight and +wiry--the curly-haired breed has failed on the Island--and broad, ample +shoulders, which his forbears had transmitted to him from generations +of hauling wood. + +He was heavy, awkward and ugly, resembling somewhat a great +draft-horse. But he pulled with a will, fended for himself, and within +the knowledge of men had never stolen a fish; so he had a high place +in the hearts of all the people of the Cove, and a safe one in their +estimation. + +"Skipper! Skipper! Here, b'y!" + +The ringing call, in the voice of Billy Topsail, never failed to bring +the dog from the kitchen with an eager rush, when the snow lay deep on +the rocks, and all the paths of the wilderness were ready for the sled. +He stood stock-still for the harness, and at the first "Hi, b'y! Gee up +there!" he bounded away with a wagging tail and a glad bark. It was as +if nothing pleased him so much on a frosty morning as the prospect of a +hard day's work. + +If the call came in summer-time when Skipper was dozing in the cool +shadow of a flake--a platform of boughs for drying fish--he scrambled +to his feet, took his clog[1] in his mouth and ran, all a-quiver for +what might come, to where young Billy waited. If the clog were taken +off, as it was almost sure to be, it meant sport in the water. Then +Skipper would paw the ground and whine until the stick was flung out +for him. But best of all he loved to dive for stones. + +At the peep of many a day, too, he went out in the punt to the +fishing-grounds with Billy Topsail, and there kept the lad good company +all the day long. It was because he sat on the little cuddy in the bow, +as if keeping a lookout ahead, that he was called Skipper. + +"Sure, 'tis a clever dog, that!" was Billy's boast. "He would save +life--that dog would!" + +This was proved beyond doubt when little Isaiah Tommy Goodman toddled +over the wharf-head, where he had been playing with a squid. Isaiah +Tommy was four years old, and would surely have been drowned had not +Skipper strolled down the wharf just at that moment. + +Skipper was obedient to the instinct of all Newfoundland dogs to +drag the sons of men from the water. He plunged in and caught Isaiah +Tommy by the collar of his pinafore. Still following his instinct, he +kept the child's head above water with powerful strokes of his fore +paws while he towed him to shore. Then the outcry which Isaiah Tommy +immediately set up brought his mother to complete the rescue. + +For this deed Skipper was petted for a day and a half, and fed with +fried caplin and salt pork, to his evident gratification. No doubt he +was persuaded that he had acted worthily. However that be, he continued +in merry moods, in affectionate behaviour, in honesty--although the +fish were even then drying on the flakes, all exposed--and he carried +his clog like a hero. + +"Skipper," Billy Topsail would ejaculate, "you _do_ be a clever dog!" + + * * * * * + +One day in the spring of the year, when high winds spring suddenly +from the land, Billy Topsail was fishing from the punt, the _Never +Give Up_, over the shallows off Molly's Head. It was "fish weather," +as the Ruddy Cove men say--gray, cold and misty. The harbour entrance +lay two miles to the southwest. The bluffs which marked it were hardly +discernible, for the mist hung thick off the shore. Four punts and a +skiff were bobbing half a mile farther out to sea, their crews fishing +with hook and line over the side. Thicker weather threatened and the +day was near spent. + +"'Tis time to be off home, b'y," said Billy to the dog. "'Tis getting +thick in the sou'west." + +Skipper stretched himself and wagged his tail. He had no word to say, +but Billy, who, like all fishermen in remote places, had formed the +habit of talking to himself, supplied the answer. + +"'Tis that, Billy, b'y," said he. "The punt's as much as one hand can +manage in a fair wind. An' 'tis a dead beat to the harbour now." + +Then Billy said a word for himself. "We'll put in for ballast. The +punt's too light for a gale." + +He sculled the punt to the little cove by the Head, and there loaded +her with rocks. Her sails, mainsail and tiny jib, were spread, and she +was pointed for Grassy Island, on the first leg of her beat into the +wind. By this time two other punts were under way, and the sails of +the skiff were fluttering as her crew prepared to beat home for the +night. The _Never Give Up_ was ahead of the fleet, and held her lead in +such fine fashion as made Billy Topsail's heart swell with pride. + +The wind had gained in force. It was sweeping down from the hills in +gusts. Now it fell to a breeze, and again it came swiftly with angry +strength. Nor could its advance be perceived, for the sea was choppy +and the bluffs shielded the inshore waters. + +"We'll fetch the harbour on the next tack," Billy muttered to Skipper, +who was whining in the bow. + +He put the steering oar hard alee to bring the punt about. A gust +caught the sails. The boat heeled before it, and her gunwale was under +water before Billy could make a move to save her. The wind forced her +down, pressing heavily upon the canvas. + +"Easy!" screamed Billy. + +But the ballast of the _Never Give Up_ shifted, and she toppled over. +Boy and dog were thrown into the sea--the one aft, the other forward. +Billy dived deep to escape entanglement with the rigging of the boat. +He had long ago learned the lesson that presence of mind wins half the +fight in perilous emergencies. The coward miserably perishes where the +brave man survives. With his courage leaping to meet his predicament, +he struck out for windward and rose to the surface. + +He looked about for the punt. She had been heavily weighted with +ballast, and he feared for her. What was he to do if she had been too +heavily weighted? Even as he looked she sank. She had righted under +water; the tip of the mast was the last he saw of her. + +The sea--cold, fretful, vast--lay all about him. The coast was half +a mile to windward; the punts, out to sea, were laboriously beating +towards him, and could make no greater speed. He had to choose between +the punts and the rocks. + +A whine--with a strange note in it--attracted his attention. The big +dog had caught sight of him, and was beating the water in a frantic +effort to approach quickly. But the dog had never whined like that +before. + +"Hi, Skipper!" Billy called. "Steady, b'y! Steady!" + +Billy took off his boots as fast as he could. The dog was coming +nearer, still whining strangely, and madly pawing the water. Billy was +mystified. What possessed the dog? It was as if he had been seized +with a fit of terror. Was he afraid of drowning? His eyes were fairly +flaring. Such a light had never been in them before. + +In the instant he had for speculation the boy lifted himself high in +the water and looked intently into the dog's eyes. It was terror he +saw in them; there could be no doubt about that, he thought. The dog +was afraid for his life. At once Billy was filled with dread. He could +not crush the feeling down. Afraid of Skipper--the old, affectionate +Skipper--his own dog, which he had reared from a puppy! It was absurd. + +But he _was_ afraid, nevertheless--and he was desperately afraid. + +"Back, b'y!" he cried. "Get back, sir!" + +FOOTNOTE: + +[1] In Newfoundland the law requires that all dogs shall be clogged as +a precaution against their killing sheep and goats which run wild. The +clog is in the form of a billet of wood, weighing at least seven and a +half pounds, and tied to the dog's neck. + + + + +CHAPTER II + + _Concerning the Behaviour of Billy Topsail and His Dog in + the Water When the Never Give Up Went to the Bottom, + and Closing With an Apology and a Wag of the Tail_ + + +IT chanced that Billy Topsail was a strong swimmer. He had learned to +swim where the water is cold--cold, often, as the icebergs stranded in +the harbour can make it. The water was bitter cold now; but he did not +fear it; nor did he doubt that he could accomplish the long swim which +lay before him. It was the unaccountable behaviour of the dog which +disturbed him--his failure in obedience, which could not be explained. +The dog was now within three yards, and excited past all reason. + +"Back, sir!" Billy screamed. "Get back with you!" + +Skipper was not deterred by the command. He did not so much as +hesitate. Billy raised his hand as if to strike him--a threatening +gesture which had sent Skipper home with his tail between his legs many +a time. But it had no effect now. + +"Get back!" Billy screamed again. + +It was plain that the dog was not to be bidden. Billy threw himself on +his back, supported himself with his hands and kicked at the dog with +his feet. + +[Illustration: BILLY RAISED HIS HAND AS IF TO STRIKE HIM.] + +Skipper was blinded by the splashing. He whined and held back. Then +blindly he came again. Billy moved slowly from him, head foremost, +still churning the water with his feet. But, swimming thus, he was +no match for the dog. With his head thrown back to escape the blows, +Skipper forged after him. He was struck in the jaws, in the throat, +and again in the jaws. But he pawed on, taking every blow without +complaint, and gaining inch by inch. Soon he was so close that the lad +could no longer move his feet freely. Then the dog chanced to catch one +foot with his paw, and forced it under. Billy could not beat him off. + +No longer opposed, the dog crept up--paw over paw, forcing the boy's +body lower and lower. His object was clear to Billy. Skipper, frenzied +by terror, the boy thought, would try to save himself by climbing on +his shoulders. + +"Skipper!" he cried. "You'll drown me! Get back!" + +The futility of attempting to command obedience from a crazy dog +struck Billy Topsail with force. He must act otherwise, and that +quickly, if he were to escape. There seemed to be but one thing to do. +He took a long breath and let himself sink--down--down--as deep as he +dared. Down--down--until he retained breath sufficient but to strike to +the right and rise again. + +The dog--as it was made known later--rose as high as he could force +himself, and looked about in every direction, with his mouth open and +his ears rigidly cocked. He gave two sharp barks, like sobs, and a +long, mournful whine. Then, as if acting upon sudden thought, he dived. + +For a moment nothing was to be seen of either boy or dog. There was +nothing but a choppy sea in that place. Men who were watching thought +that both had followed the _Never Give Up_ to the bottom. + +In the momentary respite under water Billy perceived that his situation +was desperate. He would rise, he was sure, but only to renew the +struggle. How long he could keep the dog off he could not tell. Until +the punts came down to his aid? He thought not. + +He came to the surface prepared to dive again. But Skipper had +disappeared. An ejaculation of thanksgiving was yet on the boy's lips +when the dog's black head rose and moved swiftly towards him. Billy had +a start of ten yards--or something more. + +He turned on his side and set off at top speed. There was no better +swimmer among the lads of the harbour. Was he a match for a powerful +Newfoundland dog? It was soon evident that he was not. + +Skipper gained rapidly. Billy felt a paw strike his foot. He put more +strength into his strokes. Next the paw struck the calf of his leg. +The dog was upon him now--pawing his back. Billy could not sustain the +weight. To escape, that he might take up the fight in another way, he +dived again. + +The dog was waiting when Billy came up--waiting eagerly, on the alert +to continue the chase. + +"Skipper, old fellow--good old dog!" Billy called in a soothing voice. +"Steady, sir! Down, sir--back!" + +The dog was not to be deceived. He came, by turns whining and gasping. +He was more excited, more determined, than ever. Billy waited for him. +The fight was to be face to face. The boy had determined to keep him +off with his hands until strength failed--to drown him if he could. +All love for the dog had gone out of his heart. The weeks of close and +merry companionship, of romps and rambles and sport, were forgotten. +Billy was fighting for life. So he waited without pity, hoping only +that his strength might last until he had conquered. + +When the dog was within reach Billy struck him in the face. A snarl and +an angry snap were the result. + +Rage seemed suddenly to possess the dog. He held back for a moment, +growling fiercely, and then attacked with a rush. Billy fought as best +he could, trying to clutch his enemy by the neck and to force his head +beneath the waves. The effort was vain; the dog eluded his grasp and +renewed the attack. In another moment he had laid his heavy paws on the +boy's shoulders. + +The weight was too much for Billy. Down he went; freed himself, and +struggled to the surface, gasping for breath. It appeared to him now +that he had but a moment to live. He felt his self-possession going +from him--and at that moment his ears caught the sound of a voice. + +"Put your arm----" + +The voice seemed to come from far away. Before the sentence was +completed, the dog's paws were again on Billy's shoulders and the water +stopped the boy's hearing. What were they calling to him? The thought +that some helping hand was near inspired him. With this new courage to +aid, he dived for the third time. The voice was nearer--clearer--when +he came up, and he heard every word. + +"Put your arm around his neck!" one man cried. + +"Catch him by the scruff of the neck!" cried another. + +Billy's self-possession returned. He would follow this direction. +Skipper swam anxiously to him. It may be that he wondered what this +new attitude meant. It may be that he hoped reason had returned to the +boy--that at last he would allow himself to be saved. Billy caught the +dog by the scruff of the neck when he was within arm's length. Skipper +wagged his tail and turned about. + +There was a brief pause, during which the faithful old dog determined +upon the direction he would take. He espied the punts, which had borne +down with all speed. Towards them he swam, and there was something +of pride in his mighty strokes, something of exultation in his whine. +Billy struck out with his free hand, and soon boy and dog were pulled +over the side of the nearest punt. + +Through it all, as Billy now knew, the dog had only wanted to save him. + + * * * * * + +That night Billy Topsail took Skipper aside for a long and confidential +talk. "Skipper," said he, "I beg your pardon. You see, I didn't know +what 'twas you wanted. I'm sorry I ever had a hard thought against you, +and I'm sorry I tried to drown you. When I thought you only wanted to +save yourself, 'twas Billy Topsail you were thinking of. When I thought +you wanted to climb atop of me, 'twas my collar you wanted to catch. +When I thought you wanted to bite me, 'twas a scolding you were giving +me for my foolishness. Skipper, b'y, honest, I beg your pardon. Next +time I'll know that all a Newfoundland dog wants is half a chance to +tow me ashore. And I'll give him a whole chance. But, Skipper, don't +you think you might have given me a chance to do something for myself?" + +At which Skipper wagged his tail. + + + + +CHAPTER III + + _Describing the Haunts and Habits of Devil-Fish and + Informing the Reader of Billy Topsail's Determination + to Make a Capture at all Hazards_ + + +WHEN the Minister of Justice for the colony of Newfoundland went away +from Ruddy Cove by the bay steamer, he chanced to leave an American +magazine at the home of Billy Topsail's father, where he had passed the +night. The magazine contained an illustrated article on the gigantic +species of cephalopods[2] popularly known as devil-fish. + +Billy Topsail did not know what a cephalopod was; but he did know a +squid when he saw its picture, for Ruddy Cove is a fishing harbour, and +he had caught many a thousand for bait. So when he found that to the +lay mind a squid and a cephalopod were one and the same, save in size, +he read the long article from beginning to end, doing the best he could +with the strange, long words. + +So interested was he that he read it again; and by that time he had +learned enough to surprise him, even to terrify him, notwithstanding +the writer's assurance that the power and ferocity of the creatures had +generally been exaggerated. + +He was a lad of sound common sense. He had never wholly doubted the +tales of desperate encounters with devil-fish, told in the harbour +these many years; for the various descriptions of how the long, +slimy arms had curled about the punts had rung too true to be quite +disbelieved; but he had considered them somewhat less credible than +certain wild yarns of shipwreck, and somewhat more credible than the +bedtime stories of mermaids which the grandmothers told the children of +the place. + +Here, however, in plain print, was described the capture of a giant +squid in a bay which lay beyond a point of land that Billy could see +from the window. + +That afternoon Billy put out in his leaky old punt to "jig" squid for +bait. He was so disgusted with the punt--so ashamed of the squat, +weather-worn, rotten cast-off--that he wished heartily for a new one +all the way to the grounds. The loss of the _Never Give Up_ had brought +him to humiliating depths. + +But when he had once joined the little fleet of boats, he cheerfully +threw his grapnel into Bobby Lot's punt and beckoned Bobby aboard. +Then, as together they drew the writhing-armed, squirting little squids +from the water, he told of the "big squids" which lurked in the deep +water beyond the harbour; and all the time Bobby opened his eyes wider +and wider. + +"Is they just like squids?" Bobby asked. + +"But bigger," answered Billy. "Their bodies is so big as hogsheads. +Their arms is thirty-five feet long." + +Bobby picked a squid from the heap in the bottom of the boat. It had +instinctively turned from a reddish-brown to a livid green, the colour +of sea-water; indeed, had it been in the water, its enemy would have +had hard work to see it. + +He handled it gingerly; but the ugly little creature managed somehow to +twine its slender arms about his hand, and swiftly to take hold with a +dozen cup-like suckers. The boy uttered an exclamation of disgust, and +shook it off. Then he shuddered, laughed at himself, shuddered again. A +moment later he chose a dead squid for examination. + +"Leave us look at it close," said he. "Then we'll know what a real +devil-fish is like. Sure, I've been wantin' to know that for a long, +long time." + +They observed the long, cylindrical body, flabby and cold, with the +broad, flap-like tail attached. The head was repulsively ugly--perhaps +because of the eyes, which were disproportionately large, brilliant, +and, in the live squid, ferocious. + +A group of arms--two long, slender, tentacular arms, and eight +shorter, thicker ones--projected from the region of the mouth, which, +indeed, was set in the centre of the ring they formed at the roots. +They were equipped with innumerable little suckers, were flexible and +active, and as long as the head, body and tail put together. + +Closer examination revealed that there was a horny beak, like a +parrot's, in the mouth, and that on the under side of the head was a +curious tube-like structure. + +"Oh, that's his squirter!" Billy explained. "When he wants to back up +he points that forward, and squirts out water so hard as he can; and +when he wants to go ahead he points it backward, and does the same +thing. That's where his ink comes from, too, when he wants to make the +water so dirty nobody can see him." + +"What does he do with his beak?" + +"When he gets his food in his arms he bites out pieces with his beak. +He hasn't any teeth; but he's got something just as good--a tongue like +a rasp." + +"I wouldn't like to be cotched by a squid as big as a hogshead," Bobby +remarked, timidly. + +"Hut!" said Billy, grimly. "He'd make short work o' _you_! Why, b'y, +they weighs half a ton apiece! I isn't much afraid, though," he added. +"They're only squid. Afore I read about them in the book I used to +think they was worse than they is--terrible ghostlike things. But +they're no worse than squids, only bigger, and----" + +"They're bad enough for _me_," Bobby interrupted. + +"And," Billy concluded, "they only comes up in the night or when +they're sore wounded and dyin'." + +"I'm not goin' out at night, if I can help it," said Bobby, with a +canny shake of the head. + +"If they was a big squid come up the harbour to your house," said +Billy, after a pause, "and got close to the rock, he could put one o' +they two long arms in your bedroom window, and----" + +"'Tis in the attic!" + +"Never mind that. He could put it in the window and feel around for +your bed, and twist that arm around you, and----" + +"I'd cut it off!" + +"Anyhow, that's how long they is. And if he knowed you was there, and +wanted you, he could get you. But I'm not so sure that he _would_ want +you. He couldn't see you, anyhow; and if he could, he'd rather have a +good fat salmon." + +Bobby shuddered as he looked at the tiny squid in his hand, and thought +of the dreadful possibilities in one a thousand times as big. + +"You leave them alone, and they'll leave you alone," Billy went on. +"But if you once make them mad, they can dart their arms out like +lightning. 'Tis time to get, then!" + +"I'm goin' to keep an axe in my punt after this," said Bobby, "and if I +sees an arm slippin' out of the water----" + +"'Tis as big as your thigh!" cried Billy. + +"Never mind. If I sees it I'll be able to cut it off." + +"If I sees one," said Billy, "I'm goin' to cotch it. It said in the +book that they was worth a lot to some people. And if I can sell mine +I'm goin' to have a new punt." + +But although Bobby Lot and Billy Topsail kept a sharp lookout for giant +squids wherever they went, they were not rewarded. There was not so +much as a sign of one. By and by, so bold did they become, they hunted +for one in the twilight of summer days, even daring to pry into the +deepest coves and holes in the Ruddy Cove rocks. + +Notwithstanding the ridicule he had to meet, Bobby never ventured out +in the punt without a sharp axe. He could not tell what time he would +need it, he said; and thus he formed the habit of making sure that it +was in its place before casting off from the wharf. + +As autumn drew near they found other things to think of; the big squids +passed out of mind altogether. + +"Wonderful queer," Billy said, long afterwards, "how things happen when +you isn't expectin' them!" + +FOOTNOTE: + +[2] "The early literature of natural history has, from very remote +times, contained allusions to huge species of cephalopods, often +accompanied by more or less fabulous and usually exaggerated +descriptions of the creatures. . . . The description of the 'poulpe,' +or devil-fish, by Victor Hugo, in 'Toilers of the Sea,' with which so +many readers are familiar, is quite as fabulous and unreal as any of +the earlier accounts, and even more bizarre. . . . Special attention +has only recently been called to the frequent occurrence of these 'big +squids,' as our fishermen call them, in the waters of Newfoundland and +the adjacent coasts. . . . I have been informed by many other fishermen +that the 'big squids' are occasionally taken on the Grand Banks and +used for bait. Nearly all the specimens hitherto taken appear to have +been more or less disabled when first observed, otherwise they probably +would not appear at the surface in the daytime. From the fact that +they have mostly come ashore in the night, I infer that they inhabit +chiefly the very deep and cold fiords of Newfoundland, and come to +the surface only in the night."--From the "Report on the Cephalopods +of the Northeastern Coast of America," by A. E. Verrill. Extracted +from a report of the Commissioner of Fish and Fisheries, issued by the +Government Printing Office at Washington. In this report twenty-five +specimens of the large species taken in Newfoundland are described in +detail. + + + + +CHAPTER IV + + _Recounting the Adventure of the Giant Squid of Chain + Tickle, in Which the Punt Gets in the Grip of a + Gigantic Tentacle and Billy Topsail Strikes With an + Axe_ + + +ONE day late in September--it was near evening of a gray day--Billy +Topsail and Bobby Lot were returning in Bobby's punt from Birds' Nest +Islands, whither they had gone to hunt a group of seals, reported +to have taken up a temporary residence there. They had a mighty, +muzzle-loading, flintlock gun; and they were so delighted with the +noise it made that they had exhausted their scanty provision of powder +and lead long before the seals were in sight. + +They had taken the shortest way home. It lay past Chain Hole, a small, +landlocked basin, very deep, with a narrow entrance, which was shallow +at low tide. The entrance opened into a broad bay, and was called Chain +Tickle. + +"What's that in the tickle?" Billy exclaimed, as they were rowing past. + +It was a black object, apparently floating quietly on the surface of +the water. The boys gazed at it for a long time, but could make nothing +of it. They were completely puzzled. + +"'Tis a small bit o' wreck, I'm thinkin'," said Bobby. "Leave us row +close and see." + +"Maybe 'tis a capsized punt." + +When they were within about thirty yards of the object they lay on +their oars. For some unaccountable reason they did not care to venture +nearer. Twilight was then fast approaching. The light was already +beginning to fail. + +"'Tis a wonderful queer thing!" Billy muttered, his curiosity getting +the better of him. "Row ahead, Bobby. We'll go alongside." + +"They's something movin' on it!" Bobby whispered, as he let his oars +fall in the water. "Look! They's two queer, big, round spots on it--big +as plates." + +Billy thought he saw the whole object move. He watched it closely. It +_did_ stir! It was some living thing, then. But what? A whale? + +A long, snakelike arm was lifted out of the water. It swayed this way +and that, darted here and there, and fell back with a splash. The +moving spots, now plainly gigantic eyes, glittered. + +"'Tis the devil-fish!" screamed Bobby. + +Another arm was lifted up, then a third and a fourth and a fifth. The +monster began to lash the water--faster and yet more furiously--until +the tickle was heaving and frothy, and the whole neighbourhood was in +an uproar. + +"Pull! Pull!" cried Bobby. + +Billy, too, was in a panic. They turned the head of the punt and pulled +with all their might. The water swirled in the wake of the boat. +Perceiving, however, that the squid made no effort to follow, they got +the better of their fright Then they lay on their oars to watch the +monster. + +They wondered why it still lay in the tickle, why it so furiously +lashed the water with its arms and great tail. It was Bobby who solved +the mystery. + +"'Tis aground," said he. + +That was evidently the situation. The squid had been caught in the +shallow tickle when the tide, which ran swiftly at that point, was +on the ebb. The boys took courage. Their curiosity still further +emboldened them. So once more they turned the punt about and pulled +cautiously towards the tickle. + +There was less light than before, but still sufficient to disclose the +baleful eyes and writhing arms of the squid when the boat was yet a +safe distance away. One by one the arms fell back into the water, as if +from exhaustion; slowly the beating of the tail subsided. After a time +all sound and motion ceased. The boys waited for some further sign of +life, but none came. The squid was still, as if dead. + +"Sure, he's dead now," said Billy. "Leave us pull close up." + +"Oh, no, b'y! He's but makin' believe." + +But Billy thought otherwise. "I wants that squid," he said, in a dogged +way, "and I'm goin' to have him. I'll sell him and get a new punt." + +Bobby protested in vain. Nothing would content Billy Topsail but the +possession of the big squid's body. Bobby pointed out that if the long, +powerful arms were once laid on the boat there would be no escape. He +recalled to Billy the harbour story of the horrible death of Zachariah +North, who, as report said, had been pursued, captured and pulled under +water by a devil-fish in Gander Bay.[3] + +It was all to no purpose, however, for Billy obstinately declared that +he would make sure of the squid before the tide turned. He admitted +a slight risk, but he wanted a new punt, and he was willing to risk +something to obtain it. + +[Illustration: THEN LIKE A FLASH IT SHOT TOWARD THE BOAT.] + +He proposed to put Bobby ashore, and approach the squid alone; but +Bobby would not listen. Two hands might be needed in the boat, he said. +What if the squid were alive, after all? What if it laid hold of the +punt? In that event, two hands would surely be needed. + +"I'll go," he said. "But leave us pull slow. And if we sees so much as +a wink of his eye we'll pull away." + +They rowed nearer, with great caution. Billy was in the bow of the +boat. It was he who had the axe. Bobby, seated amidships, faced the +bow. It was he who did the rowing. + +The squid was quiet. There was not a sign of life about it. Billy +estimated the length of its body, from the beak to the point of the +tail, as twenty feet, the circumference as "the size of a hogshead." +Its tentacular arms, he determined, must be at least thirty-five feet +long; and when the boat came within that distance he shuddered. + +"Is you sure he's dead?" Bobby whispered, weakly. + +"I don't know!" Billy answered, in a gasp. "I thinks so." + +Bobby dropped the oars and stepped to the bow of the punt. The boat +lost way and came to a stop within twenty feet of the squid. Still +there was no sign of life. + +The boys stared at the great, still body, lying quiet in the gathering +dusk and haze. Neither seemed to feel the slight trembling of the boat +that might have warned them. Not a word was spoken until Billy, in a +whisper, directed Bobby to pull the boat a few feet nearer. + +"But we're movin' already," he added, in a puzzled way. + +The boat was very slowly approaching the squid. The motion was hardly +perceptible, but it was real. + +"'Tis queer!" said Bobby. + +He turned to take up the oars. What he saw lying over the port gunwale +of the boat made him gasp, grip Billy's wrist and utter a scream of +terror! + +"We're cotched!" + +The squid had fastened one of its tentacles to the punt. The other was +poised above the stern, ready to fall and fix its suckers. The onward +movement of the punt was explained. + +Billy knew the danger, but he was not so terrified as to be incapable +of action. He was about to spring to the stem to strike off the +tentacle that already lay over the gunwale; but as he looked down to +choose his step he saw that one of the eight powerful arms was slowly +creeping over the starboard bow. + +He struck at that arm with all his might, missed, wrenched the axe from +the gunwale, and struck true. The mutilated arm was withdrawn. Billy +leaped to the stern, vaguely conscious in passing that another arm was +creeping from the water. He severed the first tentacle with one blow. +When he turned to strike the second it had disappeared; so, too, had +the second arm. The boat seemed to be free, but it was still within +grasp. + +In the meantime the squid had awakened to furious activity. It was +lashing the water with arms and tail, angrily snapping its great beak +and ejecting streams of black water from its siphon-tube. The water was +violently agitated and covered with a black froth. + +In this the creature manifested fear and distress. Had it not been +aground it would have backed swiftly into the deep water of the basin. +But, as if finding itself at bay, it lifted its uninjured tentacle high +above the boat. Billy made ready to strike. + +By this time Bobby had mastered his terror. While Billy stood with +uplifted axe, his eyes fixed on the waving tentacle overhead, Billy +heaved mightily on the oars. The boat slowly drew away from that highly +dangerous neighbourhood. In a moment it was beyond reach of the arms, +but still, apparently, within reach of the tentacle. The tentacle was +withdrawn a short distance; then like a flash it shot towards the boat, +writhing as it came. + +Billy struck blindly--and struck nothing. The tentacle had fallen +short. The boat was out of danger! + + * * * * * + +But still Billy Topsail was determined to have the body of the squid. +Notwithstanding Bobby's pleading and protestation, he would not abandon +his purpose. He was only the more grimly bent on achieving it. Bobby +would not hear of again approaching nearer than the boat then floated, +nor did Billy think it advisable. But it occurred to Bobby that they +might land, and approach the squid from behind. If they could draw near +enough, he said, they could cast the grapnel on the squid's back, and +moor it to a tree ashore. + +"Sure," he said, excitedly, "you can pick up a squid from behind, and +it can't touch you with its arms! It won't be able to see us, and it +won't be able to reach us." + +So they landed. Billy carried the grapnel, which was attached to twelve +fathoms of line. It had six prongs, and each prong was barbed. + +A low cliff at the edge of the tickle favoured the plan. The squid lay +below, and some twenty feet out from the rock. It was merely a question +of whether or not Billy was strong enough to throw the grapnel so far. +They tied the end of the line to a stout shrub. Billy cast the grapnel, +and it was a strong, true cast. The iron fell fair on the squid's back. +It was a capture. + +"That means a new punt for me," said Billy, quietly. "The tide'll not +carry _that_ devil-fish away." + +"And now," Bobby pleaded, "leave us make haste home, for 'tis growin' +wonderful dark--and--and there might be another somewhere." + +So that is how one of the largest specimens of _Architeuthis +princeps_--enumerated in Prof. John Adam Wright's latest monograph on +the cephalopods of North America as the "Chain Tickle specimen"--was +captured. And that is how Billy Topsail fairly won a new punt; for when +Doctor Marvey, the curator of the Public Museum at St. John's--who is +deeply interested in the study of the giant squids--came to Ruddy Cove +to make photographs and take measurements, in response to a message +from Billy's father, he rewarded the lad. + +FOOTNOTE: + +[3] Stories of this kind, of which there are many, are doubted by the +authorities, who have found it impossible to authenticate a single +instance of unprovoked attack. + + + + +CHAPTER V + + _On the Face of the Cliff: Wherein Billy Topsail Gets + Lost in a Perilous Place and Sits Down to Recover His + Composure_ + + +IN summer, when there chanced to be no fish, or when no bait was to +be had, and the fish were not to be jigged, Billy Topsail had idle +time, which he was not slow to improve for his own amusement. Often +he wandered on the cliffs and heads near the harbour--not always for +gulls' eggs: sometimes for sheer love of the sky and space and sunlit +air. Once, being bound for Breakheart Head, to watch the waves beat on +the rocks below, he came across old Arch Butt. + +"Wonderful sea outside," said the old fisherman. "Wonderful sea, Billy. +'Tis as big a tumble as ever I seed stirred up in a night." + +"An' you'll not be takin' the punt t' the grounds?" Billy asked, in +surprise. + +"I'm not able, lad. 'Tis too much for any paddle-punt. Sure, the sea's +breakin' right across the tickle. 'Tis so much as a man's life is worth +t' try t' run out." + +"Isn't you got a salmon net off Shag Rock?" + +"I is that," Arch answered; "an' I'm wantin' bad t' get to it. 'Tis set +off the point of Shag Rock, an' I'm thinkin' the sea will wreck it, for +'tis a wonderful tumble, indeed. 'Tis like I'll not be able t' get out +afore to-morrow mornin', but I'm hopin' I will." + +"An' I hopes you may, Skipper Arch," said Billy. + +It was a fine wish, born of the fresh breeze and brightness of the +day--a word let drop from a heart full of good feeling for all the +world: nothing more. Yet within a few hours Billy Topsail's life hung +upon the possibility of its fulfillment. + +"Ay," he repeated, "I hopes you may." + +Billy Topsail followed the rocky road to the Bath Tub, climbed the +Lookout, and descended the rough declivity beyond to the edge of the +sea, meanwhile lifted to a joyous mood by the sunlight and wind and +cloudless sky. Indeed, he was not sorry he had come; the grim cliffs +and the jagged masses of rock lying at their feet--the thunder and +froth where sea met rock--the breaking, flashing water to seaward; +all this delighted him then, and were not soon forgotten. Best of +all, the third submerged rock off Shag Cliff--the rock they call the +Tombstone--was breaking; the greater waves there leaped into the air +in fountains of froth. + +"I 'low I'll get closer t' the Tombstone," thought he. + +Thus he was led along the coast to the foot of Shag Cliff. It was a +hard climb, in which hands and feet were both concerned. There were +chasms to leap, sharp points to round, great rocks to scale, narrow +ledges to pass over on the toes of his boots; and all the while the +breakers were crashing and foaming below him, and now and again +splashing him with spray. + +Had the day been drear, it may be he would not have ventured so far; +but the sun was out, the day long, the gulls quietly soaring over the +sea, and on he went, giving no thought whatever to his return. + +Once under the cliff, he ventured farther. Detached from it, there lies +Nanny's Rock, which must long ago have fallen from above; the breakers +surrounded but did not sweep it when they rose and broke. + +His wish to lie there in the sunshine, with the blue sky above him and +the noise of the water in his ears, led him to dash across the dripping +space between when the wave fell back, even though he must scramble +out of the way of the returning water. + +In a few minutes he was deep in an enchanting day-dream, which, to his +subsequent peril, soon changed to sleep. + +The tide was rising. A few drops of spray, falling upon his face from a +great breaker, awoke him. On the instant he was wide awake and looking +desperately about. Then he laughed to think that the breakers were +reaching for him--that they would have had him fast in the trap had he +slept much longer; for, in a glance, he thought he had made sure that +his escape from the rock was not yet cut off. But his laugh was touched +with some embarrassment when he found, upon trial, that the sea had +blocked the path by which he had reached the foot of Shag Cliff. + +"I must go 'tother way," he thought. + +There was no other way; to right and to left the sea was breaking +against overhanging juts of rock. He could pass from jut to jut, but he +could round neither. + +"Sure, I'll be late for dinner," he thought; "an' dad won't like it." + +It was all very well to exclaim vexatiously, but he was forced to +abandon the hope of returning by way of the foot of the cliffs. The +tide had cut him off. + +"I'll scale Shag Cliff," he determined. + +He was not alarmed; the situation was awkward, but it promised the +excitement of an adventure, and for a time he was rather glad that he +had fallen asleep. To scale the two hundred feet of Shag Cliff--that +was something to achieve! His father would say that he was "narvy," and +forget that he had kept him from his dinner. Scale Shag Cliff, by all +means! + +He knew well enough that he had but to seek higher ground and wait for +the tide to fall, if he wanted an unexciting return; but it pleased him +to make believe that his situation was desperate--that the rising water +would overwhelm him if he did not escape over the brow of the cliff: an +indulgence which his imagination did not need half an hour later. When +he looked up, however, to choose a path of ascent, he found that, from +where he stood, close against the cliff at the base, there seemed to be +no path at all. + +"I 'low I'll have t' go back t' Nanny's Rock for a better squint," he +told himself. + +Back to Nanny's Rock he went, at no small risk, for the occasional +flow of foam, which had cut it off from the mainland when first he +crossed, had swollen to a strait of some depth and strength. He must +make the leap, but he dreaded it. There was a moment of terror when his +foot slipped, and he came near falling back into the very claws of the +breaker which followed him; on that account, perhaps, his survey of +the face of the cliff was a hurried one, and his return to safe ground +precipitate and somewhat flurried. + +He had seen enough, however, to persuade him that the ascent would be +comparatively easy for at least a hundred feet, and that, for the rest +of the way, it would not, probably, be much more difficult. + +In point of fact, he knew nothing whatever of what lay beyond the first +hundred feet. But the element of probability, or rather improbability, +did not disconcert him. He could at least make a start. + +If you have ever climbed about a rocky sea-coast, you will know +that an ascent may be comparatively simple where a descent is quite +impracticable; you will know that the unwary may of a sudden reach +a point where to continue the climb is a nauseating necessity. +There are times when one regrets the courage that led him into his +difficulty--the courage or the carelessness, as the case may be. + +Experience had long ago taught Billy Topsail that; but the lesson had +not been severe--there had been no gulf behind him; the whip of life or +death had not urged him on. Indeed, he had never attempted a climb of +such height and ugly possibilities in the way of blind leads as Shag +Cliff, else possibly he should not have made the start with a sense of +adventure so inspiring. + +Up he went--up and still up, his cheeks glowing, his nerves pleasurably +tingling! Up--up and still up, until he could hear the whiz of gulls' +wings near him, and the feeling of space below began to try his nerves. +At last he stopped to rest and look about. Down deep lay the breakers, +so far off, it seemed, that he marvelled he could hear the roar and +crash so distinctly. + +"An' they says 'tis a hundred feet!" thought he. "Hut! 'Tis two hundred +if 'tis an inch. An' I isn't but half way up!" + +Beyond that point his difficulties began. The cliff was bolder; it was +almost bare of those little ledges and crevices and projections upon +which the cliff-climber depends for handhold and foothold. Moreover, +the path was interrupted from time to time by sheer or overhanging +rock. When he came to these impassable places, of course, he turned to +right or left, content with his progress if only he mounted higher and +higher. Thus he strayed far off the path he had picked out from Nanny's +Rock; indeed, he was climbing blindly, a thoughtless course, for--had +he but stopped to think--there was no knowing that the cliff did not +overhang at the end of the way he had taken. + +Meanwhile, time was passing. He had climbed with such caution, retraced +his steps, changed his course so often that noon was long past. So when +next he came to a roomy ledge he sat down to rest before proceeding +farther. + +"Wonderful queer!" he thought, after a look about. "But where is I?" + +It was a puzzling question. The cliff, projecting below him, cut off +his view of the breakers; and the rock above, which came to an end in +blue sky, was of course unfamiliar. At what part of Shag Rock he then +was he could not tell. + + + + +CHAPTER VI + + _In Which Billy Topsail Loses His Nerve. Wherein, also, + the Wings of Gulls Seem to Brush Past_ + + +"WONDERFUL queer!" thought Billy Topsail. "Lost on a cliff! 'Tis the +queerest thing I ever knowed." + +But that was Billy's case. + +"I 'low," he concluded, at last, "that I'd better be goin' up instead +o' down." + +It did not appear that he would be unable to go down; the way up was +the shorter way, that was all. Nevertheless, his feeling of security +was pretty well shaken when he again began to climb. His grip was +tighter, his shrinking from the depths stronger and more frequent; in +fact, he hugged the rock more than was good for him. + +He knew the symptom for an alarming one--it turned him faint when first +he recognized it--and he tried to fix his attention upon the effort to +climb higher. But now and again the fear of the space behind and below +would creep in. Reason told him that the better part was to return; +but he was in no condition to listen to reason. His whole desire--it +was fast becoming frantic--was to crawl over the brow of the cliff and +be safe. + +But where was the brow of the cliff? It seemed to him that he had +climbed a thousand feet. + +A few minutes later he caught sight of a shrub; then he knew that he +was within a few feet of the end of the climb. The shrub--a stunted +spruce, which he had good reason to remember--was to his right, peeping +round a projection of rock. + +He was then on a ledge, with good foothold and good handhold; and a way +of return to the shore lay open to him. By craning his neck he made out +that if he could pass that projection he would reach shelving, broken +rock, and be safe. Then he studied the face of the rocks between--a +space of some six feet. + +There was foothold there, midway, but he shrank from attempting to +reach it. He had never thought in his life to try so perilous a +passage. A survey of the course of a body falling from that point was +almost more than he could support. Nevertheless, strange as it may +seem, the waving shrub tempted him to risk something more to end his +suspense. He summoned courage enough to stretch out his right foot and +search with his right hand for a hold. + +Unfortunately, he found both--a ledge for his foot and a crevice for +his fingers. + +He drew himself over. It took courage and strength, for it was a long +stretch. Had he been cramped for room, had he not been free to move +at the starting-point, he could not have managed it. But there he +was--both feet on a ledge as wide as his feet were long, both hands +with a comfortable grip on solid rock. He shuffled along until he came +to the end of the ledge. + +His last obstacle now lay before him. He must round the projection +which divided him from the broken, shelving rock beyond. Had he +foreseen the slightest difficulty he would not have gone so far. So, +with confidence, he sought a foothold for his right foot--a crevice for +the fingers of his right hand. + +And he tried again, with confidence unshaken; again, with patience; +again, with rising fear. There was no hold; the passage was +impracticable. There was nothing for it but to return. + +So he shuffled back to the other end of the ledge. Then, keenly +regretting the necessity of return, he sought a foothold for his left +foot--a crevice for the fingers of his left hand. He tried again, in +some wonder; again, with a rush of fear; again, in abject terror. + +To his horror, he found that he could not return. From the narrow ledge +it was impossible to pass to the wider, although it had been possible +to pass from the wider to the narrow. For an instant he was on the +point of toppling back; but he let his body fall forward against the +face of the cliff, and there he rested, gripping the rock with both +hands until the faintness passed. + +The situation was quite plain to him. He was standing on a ledge, as +wide as his feet were long, some two or three hundred feet above the +sea; his face was to the cliff, and he could neither sit down nor turn +round. There he must stand until--who could tell? In what way could +relief come to him? Who was to see? Who could hear his cries for help? +No fishermen were on the grounds--no punts were out of the harbour; the +sea was too high for that, as he had been told. + +There was only one answer to his question. He must stand until--he +fell. + +"Yes," he was courageous enough to admit calmly, "I 'low I got t' go." + +That once admitted, his terror of that space behind and below in some +measure departed. The sun was still shining; the sky--as he knew, for +he could catch a glimpse of it on each side--was still blue. But soon +he began to think of the night; then his terror returned--not of the +present moment, but of the hours of darkness approaching. + +Could he endure until night? He thought not. His position was awkward. +Surely his strength would wear out--his hands weaken, although the +strain upon them was slight; his legs give way. + +Of course he followed the natural impulse to cling to his life as long +as he could. Thus, while the afternoon dragged along and the dusk +approached, he stood on the face of the cliff, waiting for the moment +when his weakening strength would fail and he would fall to his death. + +"In an hour," he thought; soon it was, "In half an hour." + +Before that last half-hour had passed he felt something brush past +his back. It frightened him. What was it? Again he felt it. Again it +startled and frightened him. Then he felt it no more for a time, and he +was glad of that. He was too dull, perhaps, to dwell upon the mystery +of that touch. It passed from his mind. Soon he felt it for the third +time. Was it a wing? He wondered, too, if he had not heard a voice; for +it seemed to him that some one had hailed him. + +When next he heard the sound, he knew that his name had been called. +He looked up. A rope was hanging over the brow of the cliff, sweeping +slowly towards him. He could see it, although the light was failing. +When it came near he extended his right hand behind him and caught it, +then gave it a tug, in signal to those above that the search was ended. +Painfully, slowly, for his situation was none too secure, he encircled +his waist with that stout rope, lashed it fast, shouted, "Haul away!" +and fainted. + + * * * * * + +When Billy Topsail came to his senses, it was to find himself lying +on the moss, with old Arch, the skipper, leaning over him, and half a +dozen fishermen gathered round. + +"So you did get out to the salmon net?" he muttered. + +"Aye," said Arch; "'twas I that seed you hangin' there. Sure, if I +hadn't had my net set off Shag Rock, and if I hadn't got through the +tickle to see if 'twas all right, and if----" + +Billy shuddered. + + + + +CHAPTER VII + + _In Which Billy Topsail Hears the Fur Trader's Story of a + Jigger and a Cake of Ice in the Wind_ + + +"WOULDN'T think I'd been born on Cherry Hill, would you, now?" said the +man with the fur cap. + +The stranger had been landed at Ruddy Cove from Fortune Harbour. He +had been in the far north, he said; and he was now waiting for the +mail-boat to take him south. Billy Topsail and the lads of Ruddy Cove +cocked their ears for a yarn. + +"Fact!" said he, with a nod. "That's where I was born and bred. And do +you know how I come to be away up here? No? Well, I'm a fur trader. I'm +the man that bought the skin of that silver fox last winter for thirty +dollars and sold it for two hundred and fifty. I'd rather be the man +that bought it from me and sold it in London for six hundred. But I'm +not." + +"And you're bound for home, now?" the old skipper asked. + +"Yes," he drawled. "I'm bound home for New York to see the folks. I've +been away six years, and came nearer to leaving my bones up here in the +north last spring than ever I did before. I've done some travelling in +my time. You can take me at my word; I have." + +The trader laughed uproariously. He was in a voluble mood. The old +skipper knew that he needed but little encouragement to tell the story +of his escape. + +"It makes me think about that old riddle of the corked bottle," he +said. "Ever hear it? This is it: If you had a bottle of ginger ale, how +would you get the stuff out without breaking the bottle or drawing the +cork? Can you answer that?" + +"The answer doesn't strike me," said the skipper. + +"That's just it," the trader burst out. "The way to do it doesn't +'strike you.' But if you had the bottle in your hands now and wanted +the ginger ale, it would 'strike' you fast enough to push the cork +in. Well, that was my case. You think of yourself on a little pan of +ice, drifting straight out to sea with a strong offshore wind, water +all round you and no paddle--just think of yourself in that case, +and a way of getting ashore might not 'strike' you. But once you're +there--once you're right on that pan of ice, with the hand of death on +your collar--you'll think like lightning of all the things you can do. +Yes, that was my case." + +The listeners said nothing to interrupt the stocky, hard-featured, +ill-clad little man while he mused. + +"'Don't you be fool enough to try to cross the bay this evening,' says +I to myself," he went on. + +"But I'm a hundred-mile man, and I'd gone my hundred miles. I can +carry grub on my back to last me just that far; and my grub was out. +From what I knew of winds and ice, I judged that the ice would be +four or five miles out to sea by dawn of the next day. So I didn't +start out with the idea that the trip would be as easy as a promenade +over Brooklyn Bridge of a moonlight night. Oh, no! I knew what I was +doing. But it was a question of taking the risk or dragging myself into +the settlement at Racquet Harbour in three days' time as lean as a +car-horse from starvation. You see, it was forty miles round that bay +and four across; and--my grub was out. Many a man loses his life in +these parts by looking at the question in just that way. + +[Illustration: "JUMPED LIKE A STAG FOR THE SECOND PAN."] + +"'Oh, no!' says I to myself. 'You'd much better take your chance of +starving, and walk round.' + +"It wasn't in human nature, though, to do it. Not when I knew that +there was grub and a warm fire waiting for me at Racquet Harbour. Says +I, 'I'll take the long chance and stand to win.' Don't you run away +with the idea that the ice was a level field stretching from shore to +shore, fitting the rocks, and kept as neat as a baseball diamond. It +wasn't. Some day in the winter the wind had jammed the bay full of big +rough chunks--they call them pans in this country--and the frost had +stuck them all together. When the spring came, of course the sun began +to melt that glue, and the whole floe was just ready to fall apart when +I had the bad luck to make the coast. I was a day too late. I knew it. +And I knew that the offshore wind would sweep the ice to sea the minute +it broke up. + +"I made the first hundred yards in ten minutes; the second in fifteen +more. In half an hour I'd made half a mile. The ice was rough enough +and flimsy enough to take the nerve out of any man. But that wasn't the +worst; the worst was that there were hundreds of holes covered with +a thin crust of snow--all right to look at, but treacherous. I knew +that if I made the mistake of stepping on a crust instead of solid ice, +I'd go through and down. + +"I had four otter skins, some martens and ten fine fox skins in the +pack on my back. To do anything in the water with that handicap was +too much for me. So I wasn't at all particular about making time until +I found that the night would catch me if I didn't wag along a little +faster. + +"No, sir!" the trader said. "I didn't want to be caught out there in +the dark. + +"By good luck, I struck some big pans about half-way over. Then I took +to a dog-trot, and left the yards behind me in a way that cheered me +up. Just before dusk I got near enough to the other side to feel proud +of myself, and I began to think of what a fool I'd have been if I'd +taken the shore route. A minute later I changed my mind. I felt the +pack moving! Well, in a flash I said good-bye to Cherry Hill and the +boys. Not many men are caught twice in a place like that. They never +have the second chance. + +"There I was, aboard a rotten floe and bound out to the big, lonely +ocean at the rate of four miles an hour. + +"'Oh, you might as well get ready to go, Jim,' thinks I. But I didn't +give up. I loped along shoreward in a way that didn't take snow crust +or air-holes into account. And I made the edge of the floe before the +black hours of the night had come. + +"There was a couple of hundred yards of cold water between me and the +shore. + +"'This is the time you think more of your life than your fur,' thinks I. + +"There was a stray pan or two--little rafts of things--lying off the +edge of the floe; and beyond them, scattered between the shore and me, +half a dozen other pans were floating. How to get from one to the other +was the puzzle. They were fifty or sixty yards apart, most of them, +and I had no paddle. It was foolish to think of making a shift with my +jacket for a sail; the wind was out, not in, and I had no rudder. + +"What had I? Nothing that I could think of. It didn't _strike_ me, as +you say. I wish it had. + +"'Anyhow,' says I to myself, 'I'll get as far as I can.' + +"It was a short leap from the floe to the first pan. I made it easily. +The second pan was farther off, but I thought I could jump the water +between. So I took off my pack and threw it on the ice beside me. It +almost broke my heart to do it, for I'd walked five hundred miles in +the dead of winter for that fur; I'd been nearly starved and frozen, +and I'd paid out hard-earned money. I put down my pack, took a short +run, and jumped like a stag for the second pan. + +"I landed on the spot I'd picked out. I can't complain of missing the +mark, but instead of stopping there, I shot clear through and down into +the water. + +"Surprised? I was worse than that. I was dead scared. For a minute I +thought I was going to rise under the ice and drown right there. + +"How it happened I don't know; but I came up between the pans, and +struck out for the one I'd left. I got to the pan, all right, and +climbed aboard. There I was, on a little pan of ice, beyond reach of +the floe and leaving the shore behind me, and cold and pretty well +discouraged. + +"There's the riddle of the corked bottle," said the trader, +interrupting his narrative. "Now how do I happen to be sitting here?" + +"I'm sure I can't tell," said the skipper. + +"No more you should," said he, "for you don't know what I carried in my +pack. But you see I had the bottle in my hands, and I wanted the ginger +ale bad; so I thought fast and hard. + +"It struck me that I might do something with my line and jigger.[4] +Don't you see the chance the barbed steel hooks and the forty fathom of +line gave me? When I thought of that jigger I felt just like the man +who is told to push the cork in when he can't draw it out. I'd got back +to the pan where I'd thrown down my pack, you know; so there was the +jigger, right at hand. + +"It was getting dark by this time--getting dark fast, and the pans were +drifting farther and farther apart. + +"It was easy to hook the jigger in the nearest pan and draw my pan over +to it; for that pan was five times the weight of the one I was on. The +one beyond was about the same size; they came together at the half-way +point. Of course this took time. I could hardly see the shore then, and +it struck me that I might not be able to find it at all, when I came +near enough to cast my jigger for it. + +"About fifty yards off was a big pan. I swung the jigger round and +round and suddenly let the line shoot through my fingers. When I hauled +it in the jigger came too, for it hadn't taken hold. That made me feel +bad. I felt worse when it came back the second time. But I'm not one of +the kind that gives up. I kept right on casting that jigger until it +landed in the right spot. + +"My pan crossed over as I hauled in the line. That was all right; but +there was no pan between me and the shore. + +"'All up!' thinks I. + +"It was dark. I could see neither pan nor shore. Before long I couldn't +see a thing in the pitchy blackness. + +"All the time I could feel the pan humping along towards the open sea. +I didn't know how far off the shore was. I was in doubt about just +where it was. + +"'Is this pan turning round?' thinks I. Well, I couldn't tell; but I +thought I'd take a flier at hooking a rock or a tree with the jigger. + +"The jigger didn't take hold. I tried a dozen times, and every time I +heard it splash the water. But I kept on trying--and would have kept +on till morning if I'd needed to. You can take me at my word, I'm not +the kind of fool that gives up--I've been in too many tight places for +that. So, at last, I gave the jigger a fling that landed it somewhere +where it held fast; but whether ice or shore I couldn't tell. If shore, +all right; if ice, all wrong; and that's all I could do about it. + +"'Now,' thinks I, as I began to haul in, 'it all depends on the fishing +line. Will it break, or won't it?' + +"It didn't. So the next morning, with my pack on my back, I tramped +round the point to Racquet Harbour." + +"What was it?" was Billy Topsail's foolish question. "Shore or ice?" + +"If it hadn't been shore," said the trader, "I wouldn't be here." + +FOOTNOTE: + +[4] A jigger is a lead fish, about three inches long, which spreads +into two large barbed hooks at one end; the other end is attached to +about forty fathoms of stout line. Jiggers are used to jerk fish from +the water where there is no bait. + + + + +CHAPTER VIII + + _In the Offshore Gale: In Which Billy Topsail Goes Seal + Hunting and is Swept to Sea With the Floe_ + + +WHAT befell old Tom Topsail and his crew came in the course of the +day's work. Fishermen and seal-hunters, such as the folk of Ruddy Cove, +may not wait for favourable weather; when the fish are running, they +must fish; when the seals are on the drift-ice offshore in the spring, +they must hunt. + +So on that lowering day, when the seals were sighted by the watch on +Lookout Head, it was a mere matter of course that the men of the place +should set out to the hunt. + +"I s'pose," Tom Topsail drawled, "that we'd best get under way." + +Bill Watt, his mate, scanned the sky in the northeast. It was heavy, +cold and leaden; fluffy gray towards the zenith, and black where the +clouds met the barren hills. + +"I s'pose," said he, catching Topsail's drawl, "that 'twill snow afore +long." + +"Oh, aye," was the slow reply, "I s'pose 'twill." + +Again Bill Watt faced the sullen sky. He felt that the supreme danger +threatened--snow with wind. + +"I s'pose," he said, "that 'twill blow, too." + +"Oh, aye," Topsail replied, indifferently, "snow 'n' blow. We'll know +what 'twill do when it begins," he added. "Billy, b'y!" he shouted. + +In response Billy Topsail came bounding down the rocky path from the +cottage. He was stout for his age, with broad shoulders, long thick +arms and large hands. There was a boy's flush of expectation on his +face, and the flash of a boy's delight in his eyes. He was willing for +adventure. + +"Bill an' me'll take the rodney," Topsail drawled. "I s'pose you +might's well fetch the punt, an' we'll send you back with the first +haul." + +"Hooray!" cried Billy; and with that he waved his cap and sped back up +the hill. + +"Fetch your gaff, lad!" Topsail called after him. "Make haste! There's +Joshua Rideout with his sail up. 'Tis time we was off." + +"Looks more'n ever like snow," Bill Watt observed, while they waited. +"I'm thinkin' _'twill_ snow." + +"Oh, maybe 'twon't," said Topsail, optimistic in a lazy way. + +The ice-floe was two miles or more off the coast; thence it stretched +to the horizon--a vast, rough, blinding white field, formed of detached +fragments. Some of the "pans" were acres in size; others were not big +enough to bear the weight of a man; all were floating free, rising and +falling with the ground swell. + +The wind was light, the sea quiet, the sky thinly overcast. Had it not +been for the threat of heavy weather in the northeast, it would have +been an ideal day for the hunt. The punt and the rodney, the latter +far in the lead, ran quietly out from the harbour, with their little +sails all spread. From the punt Billy Topsail could soon see the small, +scattered pack of seals--black dots against the white of the ice. + +When the rodney made the field, the punts of the harbour fleet had +disappeared in the winding lanes of open water that led through +the floe. Tom Topsail was late. The nearer seals were all marked +by the hunters who had already landed. The rodney would have to be +taken farther in than the most venturesome hunter had yet dared to +go--perilously far into the midst of the shifting pans. + +The risk of sudden wind--the risk that the heavy fragments would "pack" +and "nip" the boat--had to be taken if seals were to be killed. + +"We got to go right in, Bill," said Topsail, as he furled the rodney's +sails. + +"I s'pose," was Watt's reply, with a backward glance to the northeast. +"An' Billy?" + +"'Tis not wise to take un in," Topsail answered, hastily. "We'll have +un bide here." + +Billy was hailed, and, to his great disappointment, warned to keep +beyond the edge of the floe. Then the rodney shot into the lane, with +Topsail and Bill Watt rowing like mad. She was soon lost to sight. +Billy shipped his sail and paddled to the edge of the ice, to wait, as +patiently as might be, for the reappearance of the rodney. + +Patience soon gave way to impatience, impatience to anxiety, anxiety to +great fear for the lives of his father and the mate, for the offshore +gale was driving up; the blue-black clouds were already high and rising +swiftly. + +At last there came an ominous puff of wind. It swept over the sea from +the coast, whipping up little waves in its course--frothy little waves, +that hissed. Heavy flakes of snow began to fall. As the wind rose they +fell faster, and came driving, swirling with it. + +With the fall of the first flakes the harbour fleet came pell-mell from +the floe. Not a man among them but wished himself in a sheltered place. +Sails were raised in haste, warnings were shouted; then off went the +boats, beating up to harbour with all sail set. + +"Make sail, lad!" old Elisha Bull shouted to Billy, as his punt swung +past. + +Billy shook his head. "I'll beat back with father!" he cried. + +"You'll lose yourself!" Elisha screamed, as a last warning, before his +punt carried him out of hail. + +But Billy still hung at the edge of the ice. His father had said, "Bide +here till we come out," and "bide" there he would. + +He kept watch for the rodney, but no rodney came. Minute after minute +flew by. He hesitated. Was it not his duty to beat home? There was +still the fair chance that he might be able to make the harbour. Did +he not owe a duty to his mother--to himself? + +But a crashing noise from the floe brought him instantly to a decision. +He knew what that noise meant. The ice was feeling the force of the +wind. It would pack and move out to sea. The lane by which the rodney +had entered then slowly closed. + +In horror Billy watched the great pans swing together. There was now +no escape for the boat. The strong probability was that she would be +crushed to splinters by the crowding of the ice; that indeed she had +already been crushed; that the men were either drowned or cast away on +the floe. + +At once the lad's duty was plain to him. He must stay where he was. If +his father and Bill Watt managed to get to the edge of the ice afoot, +who else was to take them off? + +The ice was moving out to sea, Billy knew. The pans were crunching, +grinding, ever more noisily. But he let the punt drift as near as he +dared, and so followed the pack towards the open, keeping watch, ever +more hopelessly, for the black forms of the two men. + +Soon, so fast did the sea rise, so wild was the wind, his own danger +was very great. The ice was like a rocky shore to leeward. He began to +fear that he would be wrecked. + +Time and again the punt was nearly swamped, but Billy dared not drop +the oars to bail. There was something more. His arms, stout and +seasoned though they were, were giving out. It would not long be +possible to keep the boat off the ice. He determined to land on the +floe. + +But the sea was breaking on the ice dead to leeward. It was impossible +to make a landing there, so with great caution he paddled to the right, +seeking a projecting point, behind which he might find shelter. At last +he came to a cove. It narrowed to a long, winding arm, which apparently +extended some distance into the floe. + +There he found quiet water. He landed without difficulty at a point +where the arm was no more than a few yards wide. Dusk was then +approaching. The wind was bitterly cold, and the snow was thick and +blinding. + +It would not be safe, he knew, to leave the boat in the water, for at +any moment the shifting pans might close and crush it. He tried to lift +it out of the water, but his strength was not sufficient. He managed +to get the bow on the ice; that was all. + +"I'll just have to leave it," he thought. "I'll just have to trust that +'twill not be nipped." + +Near by there was a hummock of ice. He sought the lee of it, and there, +protected from the wind, he sat down to wait. + +Often, when the men were spinning yarns in the cottages of Ruddy Cove +of a winter night, he had listened, open-mouthed, to the tales of +seal-hunters who had been cast away. Now he was himself drifting out to +sea. He had no fire, no food, no shelter but a hummock of ice. He had +the bitterness of the night to pass through--the hunger of to-morrow to +face. + +"But sure," he muttered, with characteristic hopefulness, "I've a boat, +an' many a man has been cast away without one." + +He thought he had better make another effort to haul the boat on the +ice. Some movement of the pack might close the arm where it floated. So +he stumbled towards the place. + +He stared round in amazement and alarm; then he uttered a cry of +terror. The open water had disappeared. + +"She's been nipped!" he sobbed. "She's been nipped--nipped to +splinters! I've lost meself!" + +Night came fast. An hour before, so dense was the storm, nothing had +been visible sixty paces away; now nothing was to be seen anywhere. +Where was the rodney? Had his father and Bill Watt escaped from the +floe by some new opening? Were they safe at home? Were they still on +the floe? He called their names. The swish of the storm, the cracking +and crunching of the ice as the wind swept it on--that was all that he +heard. + +For a long time he sat in dull despair. He hoped no longer. + +By and by, when it was deep night, something occurred to distract him. +He caught sight of a crimson glow, flaring and fading. It seemed to be +in the sky, now far off, now near at hand. He started up. + +"What's that?" he muttered. + + + + +CHAPTER IX + + _In Which Old Tom Topsail Burns His Punt and Billy + Wanders in the Night and Three Lives Hang on a Change + of the Wind_ + + +MEANWHILE, under the powerful strokes of old Tom Topsail and Bill Watt, +the rodney had followed the open leads into the heart of the floe. From +time to time Watt muttered a warning; but the spirit of the hunt fully +possessed Tom, and his only cry was, "Push on! Push on!" + +Seal after seal escaped, while the sky darkened. He was only the more +determined not to go back empty-handed. + +"I tells you," Watt objected, "we'll not get out. There's the wind now. +And snow, man--snow!" + +The warning was not to be disregarded. Topsail thought no more about +seals. The storm was fairly upon them. His only concern was to escape +from the floe. He was glad, indeed, that Billy had not followed them. +He had that, at least, to be thankful for. + +They turned the boat. Bending to the oars, they followed the lane by +which they had entered. Confusion came with the wind and the snow. The +lay of the pans seemed to have changed. It was changing every moment, +as they perceived. + +"Tom," gasped Watt, at last, "we're caught! 'Tis a blind lead we're in." + +That was true; the lane had closed. They must seek another exit. So +they turned the boat and followed the next lane that opened. It, too, +was blocked. + +They tried another, selected at random. In that blinding storm no +choice was possible. Again disappointment; the lane narrowed to a +point. They were nearly exhausted now, but they turned instantly to +seek another way. That way was not to be found. The lane had closed +behind them. + +"Trapped!" muttered Watt. + +"Aye, lad," Topsail said, solemnly, "trapped!" + +They rested on their oars. Ice was on every hand. They stared into each +other's eyes. + +Then, for the second time, Watt ran his glance over the shores of the +lake in which they floated. He started, then pointed in the direction +from which they had come. Topsail needed no word of explanation. +The ice was closing in. The pressure of the pack beyond would soon +obliterate the lake. They rowed desperately for the nearest shore. + +The ice was rapidly closing in. In such cases, as they knew, it often +closed with a sudden rush at the end, crushing some pan which for a +moment had held it in check. + +When the boat struck the ice Watt jumped ashore with the painter. +Topsail, leaping from seat to seat, followed instantly. At that moment +there was a loud crack, like a clap of thunder. It was followed by a +crunching noise. + +"It's comin'!" screamed Topsail. + +"Heave away!" + +They caught the bow, lifted it out of the water, and with a united +effort slowly hauled it out of harm's way. A moment later there was no +sign of open water. + +"Thank God!" gasped Topsail. + +By this time the storm was a blizzard. The men had no shelter, and they +were afraid to venture far from the boat in search of it. Neither +would permit the other to stumble over the rough ice, chancing its +pitfalls, for neither cared to be lost from the other. + +Now they sat silent in the lee of the upturned boat, with the snow +swirling about them; again they ran madly back and forth; yet again +they swung their arms and stamped their feet. At last, do what they +would, they shivered all the time. Then they sat quietly down. + +"I'm wonderful glad Billy is safe home," Watt observed. + +"I wisht I was sure o' that," said Topsail. "It looks bad for us, Bill, +lad. The ice is drivin' out fast, an' I'm thinkin' 'twill blow steady +for a day. It looks wonderful bad for us, an' I'd feel--easier in me +mind--about the lad's mother--if I knowed he was safe home." + +Late in the night Topsail turned to Watt. He had to nudge him to get +his attention. "It's awful cold, Bill," he said. "We got the boat, lad. +Eh? We got the boat." + +"No, no, Tom! Not yet! We'd be sure doomed without the boat." + +Half an hour passed. Again Topsail roused Watt. + +"We're doomed if we don't," he said. "We can't stand it till mornin', +lad. We can't wait no longer." + +[Illustration: BILLY STAGGERED INTO THE CIRCLE OF LIGHT.] + +Watt blundered to his feet. Without a word he fumbled in the snow until +he found what he sought. It was the axe. He handed it to Topsail. + +"Do it, Tom!" he said, thickly. "I'm near gone." + +Topsail attacked the boat. It was like murder, he thought. He struck +blow after blow, blindly, viciously; gathered the splinters, made a +little heap of them and set them afire. The fire blazed brightly. Soon +it was roaring. The ice all around was lighted up. Above, the snow +reflected the lurid glow. + +Warmth and a cheerful light put life in the men. They crept as close to +the fire as they could. Reason would shut out hope altogether, but hope +came to them. Might not the storm abate? Might not the wind change? +Might not they be picked up? In this strain they talked for a long +time; and meanwhile they added the fuel, splinter by splinter. + +"Father! 'Tis _you_!" + +Topsail leaped to his feet and stared. + +"'Tis Billy!" cried Watt. + +Billy staggered into the circle of light. He stared stupidly at the +fire. Then he tottered a step or two nearer, and stood swaying; and +again he stared at the fire in a stupid way. + +"I seed the fire!" he mumbled. "The punt's nipped, sir--an' I seed the +fire--an' crawled over the ice. 'Twas hard to find you." + +Tom Topsail and Bill Watt understood. They, too, had travelled rough +ice in a blizzard, and they understood. + +Billy was wet to the waist. That meant that, blinded by the snow or +deceived by the night, he had slipped through some opening in the ice, +some crack or hole. The bare thought of that lonely peril was enough to +make the older men shudder. But they asked him no questions. They led +him to the fire, prodigally replenished it, and sat him down between +them. By and by he was so far recovered that he was able to support his +father's argument that the wind had not changed. + +"Oh, well," replied Watt, doggedly, "you can say what you likes; but I +tells you that the wind's veered to the south. 'Twould not surprise me +if the pack was drivin' Cape Wonder way." + +"No, no, Bill," said Topsail sadly; "there's been no change. We're +drivin' straight out. When the wind drops the pack'll go to pieces, an' +then----" + +Thus the argument was continued, intermittently, until near dawn. Of a +sudden, then, they heard a low, far-off rumble. It was a significant, +terrifying noise. It ran towards them, increasing in volume. It was +like the bumping that runs through a freight-train when the engine +comes to a sudden stop. + +The pack trembled. There was then a fearful confusion of grinding, +crashing sounds. Everywhere the ice was heaving and turning. The +smaller pans were crushed; many of the greater ones were forced on end; +some were lifted bodily out of the water, and fell back in fragments, +broken by their own weight. On all sides were noise and awful upheaval. +The great pan upon which the seal-hunters had landed was tipped +up--up--up--until it was like the side of a steep hill. There it +rested. Then came silence. + +Bill Watt was right: the wind had changed; the pack had grounded on +Cape Wonder. The three men from Ruddy Cove walked ashore in the morning. + +Billy was the first to run up to the house. He went through the door +like a gale of wind. + +"We're safe, mother!" he shouted. + +"I'm glad, dear," said his mother, quietly. "Breakfast is ready." + +When Billy was older he learned the trick his mother had long ago +mastered--to betray no excitement, whatever the situation. + + + + +CHAPTER X + + _How Billy Topsail's Friend Bobby Lot Joined Fortunes + With Eli Zitt and Whether or Not he Proved Worthy of + the Partnership_ + + +RUDDY COVE called Eli Zitt a "hard" man. In Newfoundland, that means +"hardy"--not "bad." Eli was gruff-voiced, lowering-eyed, unkempt, +big; he could swim with the dogs, outdare all the reckless spirits of +the Cove with the punt in a gale, bare his broad breast to the winter +winds, travel the ice wet or dry, shoulder a barrel of flour; he was a +sturdy, fearless giant, was Eli Zitt, of Ruddy Cove. And for this the +Cove very properly called him a "hard" man. + +When Josiah Lot, his partner, put out to sea and never came back--an +offshore gale had the guilt of that deed--Eli scowled more than ever +and said a deal less. + +"He'll be feelin' bad about Josiah," said the Cove. + +Which may have been true. However, Eli took care of Josiah's widow and +son. The son was Bobby Lot, with whom, subsequently, Billy Topsail +shared the adventure of the giant squid of Chain Tickle. The Cove +laughed with delight to observe Eli Zitt's attachment to the lad. The +big fellow seemed to be quite unable to pass the child without patting +him on the back; and sometimes, so exuberant was his affection, the +pats were of such a character that Bobby lost his breath. Whereupon, +Eli would chuckle the harder, mutter odd endearments, and stride off on +his way. + +"He'll be likin' that lad pretty well," said the Cove. "Nar a doubt, +they'll be partners." + +And it came to pass as the Cove surmised; but much sooner than the +Cove expected. Josiah Lot's widow died when Bobby was eleven years +old. When the little gathering at the graveyard in the shelter of +Great Hill dispersed, Eli took the lad out in the punt--far out to the +quiet fishing grounds, where they could be alone. It was a glowing +evening--red and gold in the western sky. The sea was heaving gently, +and the face of the waters was unruffled. + +"Bobby, b'y!" Eli whispered. "Bobby, lad! Does you hear me? Don't cry +no more!" + +"Ay, Eli," sobbed Bobby. "I'll cry no more." + +But he kept on crying, just the same, for he could not stop; and Eli +looked away--very quickly--to the glowing sunset clouds. Can't _you_ +tell why? + +"Bobby," he said, turning, at last, to the lad, "us'll be partners--you +an' me." + +Bobby sobbed harder than ever. + +"Won't us, lad?" + +Eli laid his great hand on Bobby's shoulder. Then Bobby took his fists +out of his eyes and looked up into Eli's compassionate face. + +"Ay, Eli," he said, "us'll be partners--jus' you an' me." + +From that out, they _were_ partners; and Bobby Lot was known in the +Cove as the foster son of Eli Zitt. They lived together in Eli's +cottage by the tickle cove, where Eli had lived alone, since, many +years before, _his_ mother had left _him_ to face the world for +himself. The salmon net, the herring seine, the punt, the flake, +the stage--these they held in common; and they went to the grounds +together, where they fished the long days through, good friends, good +partners. The Cove said that they were very happy; and, as always, the +Cove was right. + +One night Eli came ashore from a trading schooner that had put in in +the morning, smiling broadly as he entered the kitchen. He laid his +hand on the table, palm down. + +"They's a gift for you under that paw, lad," he said. + +"For me, Eli!" cried Bobby. + +"Ay, lad--for my partner!" + +Bobby stared curiously at the big hand. He wondered what it covered. +"What is it, Eli?" he asked. "Come, show me!" + +Eli lifted the hand, and gazed at Bobby, grinning, the while, +with delight. It was a jack-knife--a stout knife, three-bladed, +horn-handled, big, serviceable; just the knife for a fisher lad. Bobby +picked it up, but said never a word, for his delight overcame him. + +"You're wonderful good t' me, Eli," he said, at last looking up with +glistening eyes. "You're _wonderful_ good t' me!" + +Eli put his arm around the boy. "You're a good partner, lad," he said. +"You're a wonderful good partner!" + +Bobby was proud of that. + + * * * * * + +They put the salmon net out in the spring. The ice was still lingering +offshore. The west wind carried it out; the east wind swept it in: +variable winds kept pans and bergs drifting hither and thither, and no +man could tell where next the ice would go. Now, the sea was clear, +from the shore to the jagged, glistening white line, off near the +horizon; next day--the day after--and the pack was grinding against the +coast rocks. Men had to keep watch to save the nets from destruction. + +The partners' net was moored off Break-heart Point. It was a good +berth, but a rough one; when the wind was in the northeast, the waters +off the point were choppy and covered with sheets of foam from the +breakers. + +"'Tis too rough t' haul the salmon net," said Eli, one day. "I'll be +goin' over the hills for a sack o' flour. An' you'll be a good b'y 'til +I gets back?" + +"Oh, ay, sir!" said Bobby Lot. + +It was a rough day: the wind was blowing from the north, a freshening, +gusty breeze, cold and misty; off to sea, the sky was leaden, +threatening, and overhead dark clouds were driving low and swift with +the wind; the water was choppy--rippling black under the squalls. The +ice was drifting alongshore, well out from the coast; there was a berg +and the wreck of a berg of Arctic ice and many a pan from the bays and +harbours of the coast. + +With the wind continuing in the north, the ice would drift harmlessly +past. But the wind changed. In the afternoon it freshened and veered to +the east. At four o'clock it was half a gale, blowing inshore. + +"I'll just be goin' out the tickle t' have a look at that ice," thought +Bobby. "'Tis like it'll come ashore." + +He looked the punt over very carefully before setting out. It was wise, +he thought, to prepare to take her out into the gale, whether or not +he must go. He saw to it that the thole-pins were tight and strong, +that the bail-bucket was in its place, that the running gear was fit +for heavy strain. The wind was then fluttering the harbour water and +screaming on the hilltops; and he could hear the sea breaking on the +tickle rocks. He rowed down the harbour to the mouth of the tickle, +whence he commanded a view of the coast, north and south. + +The ice was drifting towards Break-heart Point. It would destroy the +salmon net within the hour, he perceived--sweep over it, tear it +from its moorings, bruise it against the rocks. Bobby knew, in a +moment, that his duty was to put out from the sheltered harbour to the +wind-swept, breaking open, where the spume was flying and the heave and +fret of the sea threatened destruction to the little punt. Were he true +man and good partner he would save the net! + +"He've been good t' me," he thought. "Ay, Eli 've been wonderful good +t' me. I'll be true partner t' him!" + + + + +CHAPTER XI + + _Bobby Lot Learns to Swim and Eli Zitt Shows Amazing + Courage and Self-possession and Strength_ + + +WHEN, returning over the hills, Eli Zitt came to the Knob o' +Break-heart, he saw his own punt staggering through the gray waves +towards the net off the point--tossing with the sea and reeling under +the gusty wind--with his little partner in the stern. The boat was +between the ice and the breakers. The space of open water was fast +narrowing; only a few minutes more and the ice would strike the rocks. +Eli dropped on his knees, then and there, and prayed God to save the +lad. + +"O Lard, save my lad!" he cried. "O Lard, save my wee lad!" + +He saw the punt draw near the first mooring; saw Bobby loose the sheet, +and let the brown sail flutter like a flag in the wind; saw him leap to +the bow, and lean over, with a knife in his hand, while the boat tossed +in the lop, shipping water every moment; saw him stagger amidships, +bail like mad, snatch up the oars, pull to the second mooring and cut +the last net-rope; saw him leap from seat to seat to the stem, grasp +the tiller, haul taut the sheet, and stand off to the open sea. + +"Clever Bobby!" he screamed, wildly excited. "Clever lad! My partner, +my little partner!" + +But the wind carried the cry away. Bobby did not hear--did not know, +even, that his partner had been a spectator of his brave faithfulness. +He was beating out, to make sea-room for the run with the wind to +harbour; and the boat was dipping her gunwale in a way that kept every +faculty alert to keep her afloat. Eli watched him until he rounded and +stood in for the tickle. Then the man sighed happily and went home. + +"Us'll grapple for that net the morrow," he said, when Bobby came in. + +Bobby opened his eyes. "Aye?" he said. "'Tis safe on the bottom. I +thought I'd best cut it adrift t' save it." + +"I seed you," said Eli, "from the Knob. 'Twas well done, lad! You're a +true partner." + +"The knife come in handy," said Bobby, smiling. "'Tis a good knife." + +"Aye," said Eli, with a shake of the head. "I bought un for a good one." + +And that was all. + + * * * * * + +Eli set about rearing young Bobby in a fashion as wise as he knew. He +exposed the lad to wet and weather, as judiciously as he could, to +make him hardy; he took him to sea in high winds, to fix his courage +and teach him to sail; he taught him the weather signs, the fish-lore +of the coast, the "marks" for the fishing grounds, the whereabouts of +shallows and reefs and currents; he took him to church and sent him to +Sunday-school. And he taught him to swim. + +On the fine days of that summer, when there were no fish to be caught, +the man and the lad went together to the Wash-tub--a deep, little cove +of the sea, clear, quiet, bottomed with smooth rock and sheltered from +the wind by high cliffs; but cold--almost as cold as ice-water. Here +Bobby delighted to watch Eli dive, leap from the cliff, float on his +back, swim far out to sea; here he gazed with admiration on the man's +rugged body--broad shoulders, bulging muscles, great arms and legs. And +here, too, he learned to swim. + +When the warmest summer days were gone, Bobby could paddle about +the Wash-tub in promising fashion. He was confident when Eli was at +hand--sure, then, that he could keep afloat. But he was not yet sure +enough of his power when Eli had gone on the long swim to sea. Eli said +that he had done well; and Bobby, himself, often said that he could +swim a deal better than a stone. In an emergency, both agreed, Bobby's +new accomplishment would be sure to serve him well. + +"Sure, if the punt turned over," Bobby innocently boasted, "I'd be able +t' swim 'til you righted her." + +That was to be proved. + + * * * * * + +"Eli, b'y," said old James Blunt, one day in the fall of the year, "do +you take my new dory t' the grounds t'-day. Sure, I'd like t' know how +you likes it." + +Old James had built his boat after a south-coast model. She was a dory, +a flat-bottomed craft, as distinguished from a punt, which has a round +bottom and keel. He was proud of her, but somewhat timid; and he wanted +Eli's opinion of her quality. + +"'Tis a queer lookin' thing!" said Eli. "But me an' my partner'll try +she, James, just for luck." + +That afternoon a fall gale caught the dory on the Farthest Grounds--far +out beyond the Wolf's Teeth Reef. It came from the shore so suddenly +that Eli could not escape it. So it was a beat to harbour, with the +wind and sea rising fast. Off the Valley, which is half a mile from the +narrows, a gust came out between the hills--came strong and swift. It +heeled the dory over--still over--down--down until the water poured in +over the gunwale. Eli let go the main-sheet, expecting the sail to fall +away from the wind and thus ease the boat. But the line caught in the +block. Down went the dory--still down. And of a sudden it capsized. + +When Bobby came to the surface, he began frantically to splash the +water, momentarily losing strength, breath and self-possession. Eli +was waiting for him, with head and shoulders out of the water, like an +eager dog as he waits for the stick his master is about to throw. He +swam close; but hung off for a moment--until, indeed, he perceived that +Bobby would never of himself regain his self-possession--for he did not +want the boy to be too soon beholden to him for aid. Then he slipped +his hand under Bobby's breast and buoyed him up. + +"Partner!" he said, quietly. "Partner!" + +Bobby's panic-stricken struggles at once ceased; for he had been used +to giving instant obedience to Eli's commands. He looked in Eli's +dripping face. + +"Easy, partner," said Eli, still quietly. "Strike out, now." + +Bobby smiled, and struck out, as directed. In a moment he was swimming +at Eli's side. + +"Take it easy, lad," Eli continued. "Just take it easy while I rights +the boat. It's all right. I'll have you aboard in a jiffy. Is you--is +you--all right, Bobby?" + +"Aye," Bobby gasped. + +Eli waited for a moment longer. He was loath to leave the boy to take +care of himself. Until then he had not known how large a place in his +heart his little partner filled, how much he had come to depend upon +him for all those things which make life worth while. He had not known, +indeed, how far away from the old, lonely life the lad had led him. So +he waited for a moment longer, watching Bobby. Then he swam to the +overturned dory, where, after an anxious glance towards the lad, he +dived to cut away the gear--and dived again, and yet again; watching +Bobby all the time he was at the surface for breath. + +The gear cut away, the mast pulled from its socket, Eli righted the +boat. It takes a strong man and clever swimmer to do that; but Eli was +clever in the water, and strong anywhere. Moreover, it was a trick he +had learned. + +"Come, Bobby, b'y!" he called. + +Bobby swam towards the boat. Eli swam to meet him, and helped him over +the last few yards of choppy sea, for the lad was almost exhausted. +Bobby laid a hand on the bow of the dory. Then Eli pulled off one of +his long boots, and swam to the stern, where he began cautiously to +bail the boat. When she was light enough in the water, he helped Bobby +aboard, and Bobby bailed her dry. + +"Ha, lad!" Eli ejaculated, with a grin that made his face shine. "You +is safe aboard. How is you, b'y?" + +"Tired, Eli," Bobby answered. + +"You bide quiet where you is," said Eli. "I'll find the paddles; an' +I'll soon have you home." + +Eli's great concern had been to get the boy out of the water. He had +cared for little else than that--to get him out of the reach of the +sea. And now he was confronted by the problem of making harbour. The +boat was slowly drifting out with the wind; the dusk was approaching; +and every moment it was growing more difficult to swim in the choppy +sea. It took him a long time to find the paddles. + +"Steady the boat, Bobby," he said, when the boy had taken the paddles +into the dory. "I'm comin' aboard." + +Eli attempted to board the dory over the bow. She was tossing about in +a choppy sea; and he was not used to her ways. Had she been a punt--his +punt--he would have been aboard in a trice. But she was not his +punt--not a punt, at all; she was a new boat, a dory, a flat-bottomed +craft; he was not used to her ways. Bobby tried desperately to steady +her while Eli lifted himself out of the water. + +"Take care, Eli!" he screamed. "She'll be over!" + +Eli got his knee on the gunwale--no more than that. A wave tipped the +boat; she lurched; she capsized. And again Eli waited for Bobby to +come to the surface of the water; again buoyed him up; again gave him +courage; again helped him to the boat; again bailed the boat--this time +with one of Bobby's boots--and again helped Bobby aboard. + +"I'm wonderful tired, Eli," said Bobby, when the paddles were handed +over the side for the second time. "I'm fair' done out." + +"'Twill be over soon, lad. I'll have you home by the kitchen fire in +half an hour. Come, now, partner! Steady the boat. I'll try again." + +Even more cautiously Eli attempted to clamber aboard. Inch by inch he +raised himself out of the water. When the greater waves ran under the +boat, he paused; when she rode on an even keel, he came faster. Inch by +inch, humouring the cranky boat all the time, he lifted his right leg. +But he could not get aboard. Again, when his knee was on the gunwale, +the dory capsized. + +For the third time the little partner was helped aboard and given a +boot with which to bail. His strength was then near gone. He threw +water over the side until he could no longer lift his arms. + +"Eli," he gasped, "I can do no more!" + +Eli put his hand on the bow, as though about to attempt to clamber +aboard again. But he withdrew it. + +"Bobby, b'y," he said, "could you not manage t' pull a bit with the +paddles. I'll swim alongside." + +Bobby stared stupidly at him. + +Again Eli put his hand on the bow. He was in terror of losing Bobby's +life. Never before had he known such dread and fear. He did not dare +risk overturning the boat again; for he knew that Bobby would not +survive for the fourth time. What could he do? He could not get aboard, +and Bobby could not row. How was he to get the boy ashore? His hand +touched the painter--the long rope by which the boat was moored to the +stage. That gave him an idea: he would tow the boat ashore! + +So he took the rope in his teeth, and struck out for the tickle to the +harbour! + + * * * * * + +"'Twas a close call, b'y," said Eli, when he and Bobby sat by the +kitchen fire. + +"Ay, Eli; 'twas a close call." + +"A _wonderful_ close call!" Eli repeated, grinning. "The closest I ever +knowed." + +"An' 'twas too bad," said Bobby, "t' lose the gear." + +Eli laughed. + +"What you laughin' at?" Bobby asked. + +"I brought ashore something better than the gear." + +"The dory?" + +"No, b'y!" Eli roared. "My little partner!" + + + + +CHAPTER XII + + _Containing the Surprising Adventure of Eli Zitt's + Little Partner on the Way Back from Fortune Harbour, + in Which a Newfoundland Dog Displays a Saving + Intelligence_ + + +BOBBY LOT, Eli Zitt's little partner, left his dog at home when he set +out for Fortune Harbour in Eli's punt. He thought it better for the +dog. He liked company, well enough, did Bobby; but he loved his dog. +Why expose the lazy, fat, old fellow, with his shaky legs and broken +teeth, to an attack in force by the pack of a strange harbour? + +The old dog's fighting days were over. He had been a mighty, masterful +beast in his prime; and he had scarred too many generations of the +Ruddy Cove pack to be molested now as he waddled about the roads and +coves where his strength and courage had been proved. But the dogs of +Fortune Harbour knew nothing of the deeds he had done; and an air of +dignity, a snarl and a show of yellow teeth would not be sufficient to +discourage the yelping onset. + +"They'd kill him," thought the master. + +So the lad determined to leave his dog at home, and it was well for him +that he did. + +"Go back, Bruce!" he cried, as he pushed out from Eli Zitt's wharf-head. + +But Bruce slipped into the water from the rocks, and swam after the +boat, a beseeching look in the eyes which age had glazed and shot with +blood. He was not used to being left at home when Bobby pushed out in +the punt. + +"Go home, b'y!" cried Bobby, lifting an oar. + +The threatening gesture was too much for Bruce. He raised himself in +the water and whined, then wheeled about and paddled for shore. + +"Good dog!" Bobby called after him. + +In response, the water in the wake of the dog was violently agitated. +He was wagging his tail. Thus he signified a cheerful acquiescence. + +"He'll be wonderin' why he've been sent back," thought Bobby. "'Tis too +bad we can't tell dogs things like that." + + * * * * * + +Bobby had a message for Sammy Tompkins. It was about the great run of +cod at Good Luck Tickles, the news of which had reached Ruddy Cove that +morning. But old Sammy was on the Black Fly fishing grounds when the +lad got to Fortune Harbour. It was growing dark when he got in for the +night. So Bobby chanced to be late starting home. + +The wind had fallen away to a breathless calm; the sky was thickly +overcast, and a thin mist lay between the gloomy clouds and the sea's +long, black ground-swell. Bobby had not pulled through four of the six +miles before sea and sky and rocky coast were melted into one vast, +deep shadow, except where, near at hand, the bolder headlands were to +be distinguished by one who knew them well. + +"I wonder," Bobby thought, "if I'll get home before mornin'. 'Tis hard +t' say. I might have t' lie out here all night. Sure, I hope it gets no +thicker." + +He rowed on towards Ruddy Cove, taking new bearings from time to time +as the deeper shadows of the headlands loomed out of the dark of the +night. Thus, he followed the coast, making with great caution for the +narrow entrance to the inner harbour, which invariably was hard to find +at night or in the fog. + +The sea was breaking against the rocks. The noise was loud in Bobby's +ears, and served to guide him at such times as the headlands were +indistinguishable from the clouds. His progress was slow and cautious; +for he knew the dangers of the way he must take. + +There was a line of submerged rocks--The Wrecker, Old Moll and +Deep Down--lying out from Iron Head, directly in his path. That +neighbourhood was a neighbourhood of danger. When the lad caught sight +of the strange outline of Iron Head, he swerved the bow of the boat to +sea and paddled out. He wanted to make sure of rounding Deep Down, the +outermost rock--of giving it a wide berth. + +But the night and the noise of the breakers confused him. He could not +tell whether or not he had gone far enough. At length he decided that +he must be safely beyond the rock. But where was Deep Down? Often he +paused to turn and look ahead. Every glance he cast was more anxious +than the one before. He was getting nervous. + +"'Tis hard t' tell if the sea is breakin' on Deep Down," he said to +himself. "Sure, it must be, though." + +It was important to know that. Sometimes only the larger swells curl +and break as they roll over Deep Down. Bobby knew that just such a sea +was running then. Had it been daylight, the green colour and the slight +lifting of the water would have warned him of the whereabouts of that +dangerous reef. But it was night; the spray, as the wave was broken and +flung into the air, and the swish and the patter, as the water fell +back, were the signs he was on the lookout for. + +If, then, the waves broke only at long intervals, the punt might at any +moment be lifted and overturned. It might even then be floating over +the rock. Bobby's heart beat faster when the greater swells slipped +under the boat. Would they break beneath him? Would they break near +at hand? He paddled slowly. It was better to be cautious, he thought, +until he had Deep Down located. So he listened and looked as he paddled +on. + +At last he heard the significant swish and patter. He flashed about to +look ahead. But he was too late. The spray had fallen and disappeared. + +"'Tis somewheres near," he thought, "and 'tis breakin'. But whether t' +port or starboard, I don't know." + +Again--and apparently from another quarter--he heard the noise of +a breaking wave. He turned in time to catch sight of a gleam of +phosphorescence off the port bow. + +"If that's Deep Down," he thought, "I'm safe. But if 'tis Old Moll or +The Wrecker, I'm somewheres over Deep Down. I wisht I knowed which it +was." + +What was it? The Wrecker, Old Moll or Deep Down? Which one of the three +rocks that lay in a line off Iron Head? + +"I wisht I knowed," Bobby muttered, as he bent anew to the oars. + + * * * * * + +In the meantime, old Sol Sludge, of Becky Sharpe's cove, which lies +beyond Iron Head, had started for Ruddy Cove by the goat paths to +tell Skipper John Matthews that he would take a berth in the schooner +_Rescue_ when she got back from the Labrador. + +He had a candle-lantern to light the way. When he had crossed the Head +and was bound down the valley to meet the Ruddy Cove road, he heard a +cry for help. It came from the sea, with a soft southwest wind which +had sprung up--a sharp "Help! Help!" ringing out of the darkness again +and again. Old Sol listened stupidly, until, as from exhaustion, the +cries turned hoarse and weak. + +"Now, I wonder who's out there," the dull old fellow thought. "It +sounded like a woman's voice. Sure, it may be the spirit o' Mary Rutt. +She was drowned off Iron Head." + +Nevertheless, he made haste to Ruddy Cove--all the haste his old legs +and dim sight would permit--and told the folk that he had heard the cry +of a spirit drift in from the sea off Iron Head. But nobody believed +that. + +Who was in the water off Iron Head? was the question that passed from +cottage to cottage. Was it Billy Topsail? No; for Billy told the folk +in person that he had come in from the grounds at twilight. Was it +Josiah Seaworthy? No; for Josiah's wife said that he had gone by way of +Crooked Tickle to Burnt Harbour. + +Who was it? Had Eli Zitt's little partner got back from Fortune +Harbour? When Eli Zitt heard of that cry for help he knew that Bobby's +punt had been overturned on one of the Iron Head rocks. Like a woman's +voice? That surely was Bobby's--that clear, full voice. So he called +for a crew to man the skiff, and in five minutes he was ready to push +off. + +Old Bruce jumped aboard. + +"Get out with you!" said Bill Watt, aiming a kick at him by the light +of the lantern. + +"Sc-ctt!" cried old Tom Topsail. + +But Bruce was a practiced stowaway. He slunk forward, and found a +refuge under the bow seat. + +"Push off, lads!" Eli shouted. "Give way!" + +In ten minutes the skiff had passed from the harbour to the sea. Eli +Zitt, who worked the scull oar, turned her bow towards the Iron Head +rocks. It was dark; but he had fished those waters from boyhood, and he +knew the way, daylight or dark. + +Dark it was, indeed! How was Bobby to be found in that great shadow? He +was a water-dog, was Bobby; but there was a limit to his endurance, and +half an hour at least had passed since old Sol Sludge had heard his cry +for help. + +A long search meant failure. He must be found soon or he would not be +found at all. On went the boat, the water curling from her bows and +swirling in her wake. The phosphorescence flashed and glowed as the +oars were struck deep and lifted. + +"He'll be swimmin' in," Bill Watt panted, when the skiff had covered +half the distance to Deep Down. "They's no place for him t' land with +this sea on. We ought t' meet him hereabouts." + +"If he's afloat," Topsail added. + +"Oh, he's afloat yet," Eli said, confidently. "He's a strong swimmer, +that lad is." + +"I'm thinkin' he'll be nearer shore," said Bill Watt. + +"No, no! He's further out an' on." + +"Bobby!" Topsail shouted. "Oh, Bobby!" + +There was no reply. For a moment the rowers lifted their oars from the +water. Silence was all about--from the boat to the shore rocks, where +the waves were breaking. The cries for help had ceased. + +"Gone down," Bill Watt muttered. + +The men gave way again. Again they paused to call Bobby's name, and to +listen, with anxious hearts, for some far-off, answering cry. Again +they gave way. Again they called and called, but heard no answer. + +"Gone down," Bill Watt repeated. + +"Give way, lads!" cried Eli. "He's further out." + +Old Bruce came out from hiding. He crawled to the stern seat and +sniffed to windward. Then, with his nose pointed astern, he began to +howl. + +"Shut up, you!" Topsail exclaimed. + +But Bruce could not be quieted--not even after Topsail's boot had +caught him in the side and brought a sharp howl of pain. Still he +sniffed to windward and barked. + +"Throw him over," said Bill Watt. "We'll not be able t' hear Bobby." + +"Oh, if 'twas only light!" Eli groaned, not heeding Watt. + +But it was dark. The water was covered with deepest shadow. Only the +breakers and the black outline of Iron Head could be seen. Bobby might +be swimming near at hand but too far off to send an audible shout for +help. + +"Bobby--oh--Bobby!" + +If a cry in answer had gone up, the barking of the dog drowned it. The +dog must be quieted. + +"Push the brute over!" said Watt. + +Watt himself dropped his oar and stepped to the stern. He took Bruce +unaware and tumbled him into the water. The old dog made no protest. He +whined eagerly and swam out from the boat--a straight course astern. + +"Now, what did he do that for?" mused Watt. + +"That's queer," said Topsail. + +Eli looked deep into the night. The dog left a luminous wake. Beyond, +in the direction the dog had taken, the man caught sight of a +phosphorescent glow. Watt saw it at the same moment. + +"What's that?" said he. "They's fiery water, back there!" + +"Man," cried Eli, "the dog knowed! Sure, it must be Bobby, swimmin' +up, an' too beat out t' cry. Fetch her about, lads. We're on the wrong +course. Haste! He'll not be able t' last much longer." + +Eli was right. The dog _had_ known. It was Bobby. When they picked him +up he was too much exhausted to speak. It was afterwards learned that +he had mistaken the spray of the Old Moll breaker for Deep Down and had +been turned over by the outer rock when he thought himself safe. He had +heard the call of his name, and had seen the lantern of the rescuing +skiff, as it drew near; but, long before, he had worn his voice out +with screaming for help, and could make no answer. He had heard the +barking of Bruce, too; had known its significance, and had wondered +whether or not the dog would be understood. But all that he could say, +when they lifted him aboard--and that in a hoarse, weak whisper--was: + +"Bruce!" + +At that moment the crew heard a piteous whine near at hand. It was Bill +Watt who pulled the exhausted old dog over the gunwale. + +"Good dog!" said he. + +And so said they all. + + + + +CHAPTER XIII + + _In Which Billy Topsail Sets Sail for the Labrador, the + Rescue Strikes an Iceberg, and Billy is Commanded to + Pump for His Life_ + + +IT was early in the spring--a time of changeable weather when, in +the northern seas, the peril of drift-ice, bergs, snow, wind and the +dark must sometimes be met with short warning. The schooner _Rescue_, +seventy tons, Job Small, master, had supplied the half-starved Labrador +fishermen with flour and pork, and was bound back to Ruddy Cove, in +ballast, to load provisions and shop goods for the straits trade. + +Billy Topsail was aboard. "I 'low, dad," he had said to his father, +when the skipper of the _Rescue_ received the Government commission to +proceed North with supplies, "that I'd like t' _see_ the Labrador." + +"You'll see it many a time, lad," his father had replied, "afore you're +done with it." + +"An' Skipper Job," Billy had persisted, "says he'll take me." + +The end of it was that Billy was shipped. + +The _Rescue_ had rounded the cape at dawn, with all sails set, even +to her topmast-staysail, which the Newfoundlanders call the "Tommy +Dancer"; but now, with the night coming down, she was laboriously +beating into a head wind under jib and reefed mainsail. + +"I'm fair ashamed t' have the canvas off her," said Skipper Job, after +a long look to windward. "'Tis no more than a switch, an' we're clewed +up for a snorter." + +"They's no one t' see, sir," said the cook. "That's good; an' sure I +hopes that nothin' heaves in sight t' shame us." + +"Leave us shake the reef out o' the mains'l, sir, an' give her the +fores'l," said the first hand. + +"We're not in haste, b'y," the skipper replied. "She's doin' well as +she is. We'll not make harbour this night, an' I've no mind t' be in +the neighbourhood o' the Break-heart Rocks afore mornin'. Let her bide." + +The weather thickened. With the night came a storm of snow in heavy +flakes, which the wind swept over the deck in clouds. There was nothing +to relieve the inky darkness. The schooner reeled forth and back on the +port and starboard tacks, beating her way south as blind as a bat. +There was no rest for the crew. The skipper was at the wheel, the first +hand on the lookout forward, the cook and the two other hands standing +by on deck for emergencies. + +So far as the wind, the sea and the drift-ice were concerned, the +danger was slight, for the _Rescue_ was stoutly built; but the sea +was strewn with vast fields and mountains of Arctic ice,--the glacier +icebergs which drift out of the north in the spring--and in their +proximity, in their great mass and changing position, lay a dreadful +danger. + +"Sure, I wisht you could chart icebergs," said the skipper to the cook. +"But," he added, anxiously, "you can't. They moves so fast an' so +peculiar that--that--well, I wisht they didn't." + +"I wisht they wasn't none," said the cook. + +"Ay, lad," said the skipper. "But they might be a wonderful big one +sixty fathom dead ahead at this minute. We couldn't see it if they was." + +"I hopes they isn't, sir," said the cook, with a shiver. + +The snow ceased before morning; but at the peep of dawn a thick fog +came up with the wind, and when the light came it added nothing to the +range of vision from the bow. The night had been black; the dawn was +gray. It was so thick that the man at the wheel could not see beyond +the foremast. The lookout was lost in the fog ahead. Eyes were now of +no more use than in the depths of a cloudy night. + +But the schooner had weathered the night; and when the first light of +day broke in the east, Skipper Job gave the wheel to the second hand, +and went below with the cook to have a cup of tea. + +"I've no mind t' lose her," said he, "so I'll leave her bowl along +under short sail. If we strike, 'twill be so much the easier." + +"'Twould be a sad pity t' lose her," said the cook, "when you've got +her so near paid for." + +"Ay, that's it," said the skipper. + +The _Rescue_ had been built for young Skipper Job, after Skipper Job's +own model, by the Ruddy Cove trader. The trader was to share in the +voyages--whether for Labrador fish or in the Shore trade--until she was +paid for. Then she would belong to Skipper Job--to the young skipper, +who had married the parson's daughter, and now had a boy of his own for +whom to plan and dream. + +That was the spring of his energy and caution--that little boy, who +could no more than toddle over the kitchen floor and gurgle a greeting +to the lithe young fellow who bounded up the path to catch him in his +arms. The schooner was the fortune of the lad and the mother; and she +was now all so nearly Job's own that another voyage or two--a mere four +months--might see the last dollar of the obligation paid over. + +"No," Skipper Job repeated, absently, when he had thought of the +toddler and the tender, smiling mother, "I've no mind t' lose this here +schooner." + +Job dreamed of the lad while he sipped his tea. They must make a parson +of him, if he had the call, the skipper thought; or a doctor, perhaps. +Whatever, that baby must never follow the sea. No, no! He must never +know the hardship and anxiety of such a night as that just past. He +must be---- + +A scream of warning broke into the dream: + +"Har-rd-a-lee!" + +Skipper Job heard the fall of the feet of a man leaping back from the +bow. There was meaning in the step, in the haste and length of the +leaps--the imminence of a collision with the ice. + +"All hands!" + +The skipper had no more than leaped to his feet when there was a +stunning crash overhead, followed on the instant by a shock that +stopped the schooner dead and made her quiver from stem to stern. The +bowsprit was rammed into the forecastle, the deck planks were ripped +up, the upper works of the bows were crushed in, the cook's pots and +pans were tumbled about, the lamp was broken and extinguished. Job was +thrown from his feet. + +When he recovered, it was to the horror of this darkness and +confusion--to a second crash and shock, to screams and trampling +overhead, and to a rain of blows upon the deck. He cried to the cook to +follow him on deck, and felt his way in mad haste to the ladder; but +there he stopped, of a sudden, with his foot on the lowest step, for +the cook had made no reply. + +"Cook, b'y!" he shouted. + +There was no answer. It was apparent that the man had been killed or +desperately injured. The skipper knew the danger of delay. They had +struck ice; the berg might overturn, some massive peak might topple +over, the ship might fill and sink. But, as a matter of course, and +with no thought of himself as a hero, he turned and made a groping +search for the cook, until he found the poor fellow lying unconscious +among his own pots and pans. Thence he carried him to the deck, and +stretched him out on the fore hatch, with the foreboom and sail to +protect him from the fragments of ice, which fell as in a shower each +time the schooner struck the berg. + +Billy Topsail caught the skipper by the arm in a strong grip. + +"We're lost!" he cried. + +The roaring wind, the hiss of the seas, the shock and wreck, the +sudden, dreadful peril, had thrown the lad into a panic. The skipper +perceived his distress, and acted promptly to restore him to his +manhood. + +"Leave me free!" he shouted, with a scowl. + +But Billy tightened his grip on the skipper's arm, and sobbed and +whined. The skipper knocked him down with a blow on the breast; then +jerked him to his feet and pointed to the pump. + +"Pump for your life!" he commanded, knowing well that what poor Billy +needed was work, of whatever kind, to give him back his courage. + + + + +CHAPTER XIV + + _Faithfully Narrating the Amazing Experiences of a + Newfoundland Schooner and Describing Billy Topsail's + Conduct in a Sinking Boat_ + + +THE deck of the _Rescue_ was now littered with wreckage and casks. +Splinters of the jib-boom, all tangled with the standing rigging, lay +upon the forward deck. The maintopmast had snapped off, and hung from +the mainmast in a tangle of wire and rope. They had already cut the +mainsail halyards, and the big sail lay upon the boom, on the port +side, in disarrayed folds. + +The bows were high out of the water, as if the ship had run up a steep, +submerged shelf of ice; and the seas, which the wind of the night had +raised, from time to time broke over the stern. It was impossible, +however, to determine the general situation of the schooner. The fog +was too thick for that, and the day had not yet fully broken. All that +was revealed, in a glance about, was that upon one hand lay a waste of +breaking water, and upon the other a dull white mass, lifting itself +into the mist. + +"'Tis bad, lads," said the skipper, when the first and second hands had +joined him under the mainmast shrouds. + +"She's lost," said the first. + +"We'll be takin' t' the boat," said the second. + +"I'm not so sure that she's lost," said the skipper. "Whatever, we'll +not take t' the boat till we have to." + +The first and second hands exchanged a glance, and together looked at +the boat. The swift glance and look were a danger-signal to the skipper. + +"Does you hear me?" he shouted, his voice ringing out above the wash of +the waves and the noise of the wind. "We'll not leave her. Take a spell +at the pump, both o' you!" + +For a moment the skipper's authority was in doubt. The men wavered. +A repetition of the command, however, with clenched fists ready to +enforce it, decided them. They relieved young Billy. + +"Is the water gainin', b'y?" said the skipper to the lad. + +Billy looked up steadily. The fright had left his eyes. He had +recovered his self-possession. + +"No, sir," he said, quietly. "'Tis gettin' less all the while." + +At that moment the ship lurched slightly and slid off the shelf. The +skipper shouted an order to raise the foresail, and ran aft to take +the wheel. But the fall of the topmast had so tangled the rigging +and jammed the gaff and boom that before the crew could remove the +unconscious cook and lift the sail, the wind had turned the schooner +and was driving her stern foremost, as it appeared, on the ice. + +The skipper, from his station at the wheel, calmly observed the nearing +berg, and gave the schooner up for lost. There was no time to raise +the sail--no room for beating out of danger. He saw, too, that if she +struck with force, the quarter-boat, which was swinging from davits +astern, would be crushed to splinters. + +"She's lost!" he thought. "Lost with all hands!" + +Nearer approach, however, disclosed the strange fact that there was a +break in the ice. When the schooner was still a few fathoms nearer, it +was observed that the great berg was in reality composed of two masses +of ice, with a narrow strait leading between them. + +The light was now stronger, and the fog had somewhat thinned; it was +possible to distinguish shadowy outlines--to see that great cliffs of +ice descended on each side of the passage to the water's edge. Still +deeper in the mist it was lighter, as if the strait indeed led directly +through the berg to the open sea beyond. The crew was gathered aft, +breathlessly awaiting the schooner's fate, helpless to fend or aid; and +the cook was lying on the roof of the cabin, where they had laid him +down, revived in part, and desperately struggling to recover his senses. + +[Illustration: "SHE'S LOST!" HE THOUGHT. "LOST WITH ALL HANDS."] + +"Lads," said the skipper, at last, "the Lord has the schooner in His +hands. They's a way through the ice. He's guidin' her into it, but +whether He'll save us or not, He only knows." + +The _Rescue_ drifted fairly into the passage, which was irregular, but +in no part less than twice the width of the vessel. She was swept on, +swinging from side to side, striking her bow here and her stern there; +and with every shock fragments of rotten ice fell in a shower from +above. + +How soon one might strike one of their number down, no man knew. How +soon some great mass, now poised in the mist, might be dislodged +and crush the schooner in its fall, no man knew. How soon the towering +cliffs might swing together and grind the ship to splinters, no man +could tell. Were these masses of ice connected deep down under water? +Or were they floating free? + +There were no answers to these questions. On went the schooner, stern +foremost, slipping ever nearer to the open.[5] + +"Skipper, sir," the first hand pleaded, "leave us launch the +quarter-boat an' pull out. 'Tis--'tis--too horrible here." + +"Ay, lads, if you will," was the reply. + +It was then discovered that a block of ice had fallen in the boat at +the bows, and sprung the planking. She was too leaky to launch; there +was nothing for it but to wait. + +"We'll calk those leaks as best we can," said the skipper. "They's no +tellin' what might----" + +The stern struck a projection, and the bow swung round and lodged +on the other side. The schooner was jammed in the passage, almost +broadside to the wind. They made a shift at calking the leaks with rags +and a square of oiled canvas. At all hazards the schooner must be +freed. + +"We must get her off quick, lads!" the skipper cried. "Come, now, who's +going with me in the boat t' tow?" + +"I, sir," said young Billy, stepping forward eagerly. + +"I, sir," said the first hand. + +"So it is," said the skipper. "Andy, Tom, when we hauls her bow off, do +you stand here with a gaff an' push. Lower away that boat, now! Billy, +do you fetch a bucket for bailin'." + +The boat was launched with great difficulty from her place in the +stern davits. She began at once to fill, for the calking had been ill +done, and she was sadly damaged. It took courage to leap into her from +the taffrail, leaky as she was, and tossing about; but there was a +desperate sort of courage in the hearts of the men who had volunteered, +and they leaped, one by one. + +Billy fell to bailing, and the skipper and the first hand rowed forward +to catch the line. The line once caught and made fast, they pulled out +with might and main. + +"She's fillin' fast, sir!" Billy gasped. + +"Bail, b'y, bail!" + +The tow-rope was now taut. The skipper and the first hand pulled +with such strength that each stroke of an oar made a hissing little +whirlpool. + +"'Tis gainin' on me fast, sir," said Billy. + +"Give way! Give way!" cried the skipper. + +The bow of the schooner swung round inch by inch--so slowly that the +sinking of the boat seemed inevitable. + +"She'll sink, sir!" said Billy, in alarm, but still bailing steadily. + +"Pull! Pull!" + +When the schooner was once more in her old position--stern foremost, +and driving slowly through the passage--the water was within an inch +of the seats of the boat, which was now heavy and almost unmanageable. +Twenty fathoms of water lay between the boat and the bow of the +schooner. + +"She's goin' down, sir!" said Billy. + +"Cast lines!" the skipper shouted to those aboard. + +Water curled over the gunwales. The boat stopped dead, and wavered, on +the point of sinking. Two lines came whizzing towards her, uncoiling in +their flight. The one was caught by the first hand, who threw himself +into the water and was hauled aboard. Billy and the skipper caught the +other. With its help and a few strong strokes they made the bow chains +and clambered to the deck. + +"She's drivin' finely," said the skipper, when he had looked around. +"Stand by, there, an' be ready with the fores'l! We'll soon be through." + +It was true enough; in a few minutes the schooner had safely drifted +through the passage, and was making off from the berg under a reefed +foresail, while the mist cleared and the sun shone out, and the peaks +and cliffs of the island of ice, far astern, shone and glistened. And +three days later the young skipper bounded up the path at Ruddy Cove, +and the little toddler whom he loved was at the kitchen door to greet +him. + +FOOTNOTE: + +[5] At this point it may be of interest to the reader to know that the +incident is true. + + + + +CHAPTER XV + + _In Which the Ruddy Cove Doctor Tells Billy Topsail and + a Stranger How He Came to Learn that the Longest Way + 'Round is Sometimes the Shortest Way Home_ + + +IT was a quiet evening--twilight: with the harbour water unruffled, and +the colours of the afterglow fast fading from the sky. Billy Topsail +and the doctor and a stranger sat by the surgery door, watching the +boats come in from the sea, and their talk had been of the common +dangers of that life. + +"It was a very narrow escape," said the doctor. + +"Crossing the harbour!" the stranger exclaimed. "Why, 'tis not two +hundred yards!" + +"'Twas my narrowest escape--and 'twas all because of Billy Topsail." + +"Along o' _me_!" cried Billy. + +"Ay," said the doctor; "'twas all along o' you. Some years ago," he +continued, "when you were a toddler in pinafores, you were taken +suddenly ill. It was a warm day in the spring of the year. The ice was +still in the harbour, locked in by the rocks at the narrows, though +the snow had all melted from the hills, and green things were shooting +from the earth in the gardens. The weather had been fine for a week," +the doctor continued, addressing the stranger, "Day by day the harbour +ice had grown more unsafe, until, when Billy was taken ill, only the +daring ventured to cross upon it. + +[Illustration: "MY LITTLE LAD'S WONDERFUL SICK. COME QUICK!"] + +"Billy's father came rushing into the surgery in a pitiable state of +grief and fright. I knew when I first caught sight of his face that +Billy was ill. + +"'Doctor,' said he, 'my little lad's wonderful sick. Come quick!' + +"'Can we cross by the ice?' I asked. + +"'I've come by that way,' said he. ''Tis safe enough t' risk. Make +haste, doctor, sir! Make haste!' + +"'Lead the way!' said I. + +"He led so cleverly that we crossed without once sounding the ice. It +was a zigzag way--a long, winding course--and I knew the day after, +though I was too intent upon the matter in hand to perceive it at the +moment, that only his experience and acquaintance with the condition of +the ice made the passage possible. After midnight, when my situation +was one of extreme peril, I realized that the way had been neither safe +for me, who followed, nor easy for the man who led. + +"'My boy is dying, doctor!' said the mother, when we entered the house. +'Oh, save him!' + +"My sympathy for the child and his parents,--they loved that lad--no +less than a certain professional interest which takes hold of a young +physician in such cases, kept me at Billy's bedside until long, +long after dark. I need not have stayed so long--ought not to have +stayed--for the lad was safe and out of pain; but in this far-away +place a man must be both nurse and doctor, and there I found myself, at +eleven o'clock of a dark night, worn out, and anxious only to reach my +bed by the shortest way. + +"'I thinks, sir,' said Billy's father, when I made ready to go, 'that I +wouldn't go back by the ice.' + +"'Oh, nonsense!' said I. 'We came over without any trouble, and I'll +find my way back, never fear.' + +"'I wisht you'd stay here the night,' said the mother. 'If you'll bide, +sir, we'll make you comfortable.' + +"'No, no,' said I. 'I must get to my own bed.' + +"'If you'll not go round by the shore, sir,' said the man, 'leave me +pilot you across.' + +"'Stay with your lad,' said I, somewhat testily. 'I'll cross by the +ice.' + +"''Twill be the longest way home the night,' said he. + +"When a man is sleepy and worn out he can be strangely perverse. I +would have my own way; and, to my cost, I was permitted to take it. +Billy's father led me down to the landing-stage, put a gaff in my hand, +and warned me to be careful--warned me particularly not to take a step +without sounding the ice ahead with my gaff; and he brought the little +lesson to an end with a wistful, 'I wisht you wouldn't risk it.' + +"The tone of his voice, the earnestness and warm feeling with which he +spoke, gave me pause. I hesitated; but the light in my surgery window, +shining so near at hand, gave me a vision of comfortable rest, and I +put the momentary indecision away from me. + +"'It is two hundred yards to my surgery by the ice,' I said, 'and it +is two miles round the harbour by the road. I'm going by the shortest +way.' + +"'You'll find it the longest, sir,' said he. + +"I repeated my directions as to the treatment of little Billy, then +gave the man good-night, and stepped out on the ice, gaff in hand. The +three hours following were charged with more terror and despair than, +doubtless, any year of my life to come shall know. I am not morbidly +afraid of death. It was not that--not the simple, natural fear of +death that made me suffer. It was the manner of its coming--in the +night, with the harbour folk, all ignorant of my extremity, peacefully +sleeping around me--the slow, cruel approach of it, closing in upon +every hand, lying all about me, and hidden from me by the night." + +The doctor paused. He looked over the quiet water of the harbour. + +"Yes," he said, repeating the short, nervous laugh, "it was a narrow +escape. The sun of the afternoon--it had shone hot and bright--had +weakened the ice, and a strong, gusty wind, such a wind as breaks up +the ice every spring, was blowing down the harbour to the sea. It had +overcast the sky with thick clouds. The night was dark. Nothing more of +the opposite shore than the vaguest outline of the hills--a blacker +shadow in a black sky--was to be seen. + +"But I had the lamp in the surgery window to guide me, and I pushed out +from the shore, resolute and hopeful. I made constant use of my gaff +to sound the ice. Without it I should have been lost before I had gone +twenty yards. From time to time, in rotten places, it broke through the +ice with but slight pressure; then I had to turn to right or left, as +seemed best, keeping to the general direction as well as I could all +the while. + +"As I proceeded, treading lightly and cautiously, I was dismayed to +find that the condition of the ice was worse than the worst I had +feared. + +"'Ah,' thought I, with a wistful glance towards the light in the +window, 'I'll be glad enough to get there.' + +"There were lakes of open water in my path; there were flooded patches, +sheets of thin, rubbery ice, stretches of rotten 'slob.' I was not even +sure that a solid path to my surgery wound through these dangers; and +if path there were, it was a puzzling maze, strewn with pitfalls, with +death waiting upon a misstep. + +"Had it been broad day, my situation would have been serious enough. +In the night, with the treacherous places all covered up and hidden, it +was desperate. I determined to return; but I was quite as unfamiliar +with the lay of the ice behind as with the path ahead. A moment of +thought persuaded me that the best plan was the boldest--to push on for +the light in the window. I should have, at least, a star to guide me. + +"'I have not far to go,' I thought. 'I must proceed with confidence and +a common-sense sort of caution. Above all, I must _not_ lose my nerve.' + +"It was easy to make the resolve; it was hard to carry it out. When I +was searching for solid ice and my gaff splashed water, when the ice +offered no more resistance to my gaff than a similar mass of sea-foam, +when my foothold bent and cracked beneath me, when, upon either side, +lay open water, and a narrowing, uncertain path lay ahead, my nerve was +sorely tried. + +"At times, overcome by the peril I could not see, I stopped dead and +trembled. I feared to strike my gaff, feared to set my foot down, +feared to quit the square foot of solid ice upon which I stood. Had it +not been for the high wind--high and fast rising to a gale--I should +have sat down and waited for the morning. But there were ominous +sounds abroad, and, although I knew little about the ways of ice, I +felt that the break-up would come before the dawn. There was nothing +for it but to go on. + +"And on I went; but at last--the mischance was inevitable--my step was +badly chosen. My foot broke through, and I found myself, of a sudden, +sinking. I threw myself forward, and fell with my arms spread out; thus +I distributed my weight over a wider area of ice and was borne up. + +"For a time I was incapable of moving a muscle; the surprise, the +rush of terror, the shock of the fall, the sudden relief of finding +myself safe for the moment had stunned me. So I lay still, hugging the +ice; for how long I cannot tell, but I know that when I recovered my +self-possession my first thought was that the light was still burning +in the surgery window--an immeasurable distance away. I must reach that +light, I knew; but it was a long time before I had the courage to move +forward. + +"Then I managed to get the gaff under my chest, so that I could throw +some part of my weight upon it, and began to crawl. The progress was +inch by inch--slow and toilsome, with no moment of security to lighten +it. I was keenly aware of my danger; at any moment, as I knew, the ice +might open and let me in. + +"I had gained fifty yards or more, and had come to a broad lake, which +I must round, when the light in the window went out. + +"'Elizabeth has given me up for the night,' I thought in despair. 'She +has blown out the light and gone to bed.' + +"There was now no point of light to mark my goal. It was very dark; +and in a few minutes I was lost. I had the wind to guide me, it is +true; but I soon mistrusted the wind. It was veering, it had veered, I +thought; it was not possible for me to trust it implicitly. In whatever +direction I set my face I fancied that the open sea lay that way. + +"Again and again I started, but upon each occasion I had no sooner +begun to crawl than I fancied that I had mischosen the way. Of course +I cried for help, but the wind swept my frantic screams away, and no +man heard them. The moaning and swish of the gale, as it ran past the +cottages, drowned my cries. The sleepers were not alarmed. + +"Meanwhile that same wind was breaking up the ice. I could hear the +cracking and grinding long before I felt the motion of the pan upon +which I lay. But at last I did feel that mass of ice turn and gently +heave, and then I gave myself up for lost. + +"'Doctor! Doctor!' + +"The voice came from far to windward. The wind caught my answering +shout and carried it out to sea. + +"'They will not hear me,' I thought. 'They will not come to help me.' + +"The light shone out from the surgery window again. Then lights +appeared in the neighbouring houses, and passed from room to room. +There had been an alarm. But my pan was breaking up! Would they find me +in time? Would they find me at all? + +"Lanterns were now gleaming on the rocks back of my wharf. Half a dozen +men were coming down on the run, bounding from rock to rock of the +path. By the light of the lanterns I saw them launch a boat on the ice +and drag it out towards me. From the edge of the shore ice they let it +slip into the water, pushed off and came slowly through the opening +lanes of water, calling my name at intervals. + +"The ice was fast breaking and moving out. When they caught my hail +they were not long about pushing the boat to where I lay. Nor, you may +be sure, was I long about getting aboard." + +The doctor laughed nervously. + +"Doctor," said the stranger, "how did they know that you were in +distress?" + +"Oh," said the doctor, "it was Billy's father. He was worried, and +walked around by the shore. When he found that I was not home, he +roused the neighbours." + +"As the proverb runs," said the stranger, "the longest way round is +sometimes the shortest way home." + +"Yes," said the doctor, "I chose the longest way." + + + + +CHAPTER XVI + + _Describing How Billy Topsail Set out for Ruddy Cove with + Her Majesty's Mail and Met with Catastrophe_ + + +THROUGH the long, evil-tempered winter, when ice and high winds keep +the coasting boats from the outports, the Newfoundland mails are +carried by hand from settlement to settlement, even to the farthermost +parts of the bleak peninsula to the north. + +Arch Butt's link in the long chain was from Burnt Bay to Ruddy Cove. +Once a week, come wind, blizzard or blinding sunlight, with four +dollars and a half to reward him at the end of it, he made the eighty +miles of wilderness and sea, back and forth, with the mail-bag on his +broad back. + +No man of the coast, save he, dared face that stretch in all weathers. +It may be that he tramped a league, skated a league, sailed a league, +sculled a league, groped his way through a league of night, breasted +his way through a league of wind, picked his way over a league of +shifting ice. + +To be sure, he chose the way which best favoured his progress and +least frayed the thread upon which his life hung. + +"Seems t' me, b'y," he said to his mate from New Bay, when the great +gale of '98 first appeared in the northeast sky--"seems t' me we _may_ +make Duck Foot Cove the night, safe enough." + +"Maybe, lad," was the reply, after a long, dubious survey of the rising +clouds. "Maybe we'll get clear o' the gale, but 'twill be a close call, +whatever (at any rate)." + +"Maybe," said Arch. "'Twould be well t' get Her Majesty's mail so far +as Duck Foot Cove, whatever." + +When Arch Butt made Duck Foot Cove that night, he was on the back of +his mate, who had held to him, through all peril, with such courage +as makes men glorious. Ten miles up the bay, his right foot had been +crushed in the ice, which the sea and wind had broken into unstable +fragments. Luff of New Bay had left him in the cottage of Billy +Topsail's uncle, Saul Ride, by the Head, the only habitation in the +cove, and made the best of his own way to the harbours of the west +coast of the bay. Three days' delay stared the Ruddy Cove mailman in +the face. + +"Will you not carry the mail t' Ruddy Cove, Saul Ride?" he demanded, +when he had dressed his foot, and failed, stout as he was, to bear the +pain of resting his weight upon it. + +"'Tis too far in a gale for my old legs," said Ride, "an'----" + +"But 'tis Her Majesty's mail!" cried Arch. "Won't you try, b'y?" + +"An I had a chance t' make it, I'd try, quick enough," said Ride +sharply; "but 'twould be not only me life, but the mail I'd lose. The +ice do be broken up 'tween here an' Creepy Bluff; an' not even Arch +Butt, hisself, could walk the hills." + +"Three days lost!" Arch groaned. "All the letters three days late! An' +all----" + +"Letters!" Ride broke in scornfully. "Letters, is it? Don't you fret +about they. A love letter for the parson's daughter; the price o' fish +from St. John's for the old skipper; an' a merchant's account for every +fisherman t' the harbour: they be small things t' risk life for." + +The mailman laid his hand on the leather bag at his side. He fingered +the government seal tenderly and his eyes flashed splendidly when he +looked up. + +"'Tis Her Majesty's mail!" he said. "Her Majesty's mail! Who knows what +they be in this bag. Maybe, b'y--maybe--maybe they's a letter for old +Aunt Esther Bludgel. She've waited this three year for a letter from +that boy," he continued. "Maybe _'tis_ in there now. Sure, b'y, an' I +believe 'tis in there. Saul Ride, the mail must go!" + +A touch of the bruised foot on the floor brought the mailman groaning +to his chair again. If the mail were to go to Ruddy Cove that night, +it was not to be carried on his back: that much was evident. Saul Ride +gazed at him steadily for a moment. Something of the younger man's fine +regard for duty communicated itself to him. There had been a time--the +days of his strength--when he, too, would have thought of duty before +danger. He went abstractly to the foot of the loft stair. + +"Billy!" he called. "Billy!" + +"Ay, Uncle Saul," was the quick response. + +"I wants you, b'y." + +Billy Topsail came swiftly down the stair. He was spending a week with +his lonely Uncle Saul at Duck Foot Cove. A summons at that hour meant +pressing service--need of haste. What was the call? Were they all well +at home? He glanced from one man to the other. + +"B'y," said Ride, with a gesture towards the mail-bag, "will you carry +that bag to Ruddy Cove? Will----" + +"Will you carry Her Majesty's mail t' Ruddy Cove?" Arch Butt burst out. +His voice thrilled Billy, as he continued: "Her Majesty's mail!" + +"'Tis but that black bag, b'y," Ride said quietly. "Will you take it t' +Ruddy Cove t'-night? Please yourself about it." + +"Ay," said Billy quickly. "When?" + +"'Twill be light enough in four hours," said the mailman. + +"Go back t' bed, b'y," Ride said. "I'll wake you when 'tis time t' be +off." + +Five minutes later the boy was sound asleep. + + * * * * * + +No Newfoundlander ventures out upon the ice without his gaff--a +nine-foot pole, made of light, tough dog-wood, and iron-shod. It was +with his own true gaff that Billy felt his way out of Duck Foot Cove as +the night cleared away. + +The sea had abated somewhat with the wind. In the bay beyond the cove, +the broken ice was freezing into one vast, rough sheet, solid as the +coast rocks on the pans, but unsafe, and deceptive over the channels +between. The course was down the bay, skirting the shore, to Creepy +Bluff, then overland to Ruddy Cove, which is a port of the open sea: in +all, twenty-one miles, with the tail of the gale to beat against. + +"Feel every step o' the way till the light comes strong," had been old +Saul Ride's last word to the boy. "Strike hard with your gaff before +you put your foot down." + +Billy kept his gaff before him--feeling his way much as a blind man +taps the pavement as he goes along a city street. The search for solid +ice led him this way and that, but his progress towards Creepy Bluff, +the shadowy outline of which he soon could see, steadily continued. He +surmised that it was still blowing hard in the open, beyond the shelter +of the islands; and he wondered if the wind would sweep him off his +feet when he essayed to cross Sloop Run, down which it ran, unbroken, +from the sea to the bluff. + +"Her Majesty's mail!" he muttered, echoing the thrill in the mailman's +voice. "Her Majesty's mail!" + +When the light was stronger--but it was not yet break of day--he +thought to make greater haste by risking more. Now and again he chanced +himself on a suspicious-looking black sheet. Now and again he ran +nimbly over many yards of rubber ice, which yielded and groaned, but +did not break. Often he ventured where Arch Butt would not have dared +take his massive body. All this he did, believing always that he should +not delay the Gull Arm mailman, who might even then be waiting for him +in Ruddy Cove. + +But when he had covered six miles of the route, he came to a wide +channel which was not yet frozen over. It lay between two large pans. +How far he might have to diverge from his course to cross without risk, +he could not tell. He was impressed with the fact that, once across, +the way lay clear before him--a long stretch of solid ice. + +"Sure, I must cross here," he thought. + +He sought for a large cake of floating ice, that he might ferry himself +across with his gaff. None great enough to bear his weight was to be +seen--none, at least, within reach of his gaff. There were small cakes +a-plenty; these were fragments heavy enough to bear him for but an +instant. Could he cross on them? He thought he might leap from one to +the other so swiftly that none would be called upon to sustain his full +weight, and thus pass safely over. + +With care he chose the path he would follow. Then, without hesitation, +he leaped for the first cake--passed to the second--to the third--to +the fourth--stepping so lightly from one to the other that the water +did not touch the soles of his boots. In a moment, he was whistling on +his way on the other side, leaving the channel ice bobbing excitedly +behind him. + +Soon he broke off whistling and began to sing. On he trudged, piping +merrily: + + 'Way down on Pigeon Pond Island, + When daddy comes home from swilin',[6] + Cakes and tea for breakfast, + Pork and duff for dinner, + Cakes and tea for supper, + 'Way down on Pigeon Pond Island. + +At noon he came to an expanse of bad ice. He halted at the edge of it +to eat a bit of the hard bread and dried venison in his nunny-bag. +Then, forward again! He advanced with great caution, sounding every +step, on the alert for thin places. A mile of this and he had grown +weary. He was not so quick, not so sure, in his estimate of the +strength of the ice. The wind, now blowing in stronger gusts, brought +the water to his eyes and impaired his sight. He did not regret his +undertaking, but he began ardently to wish that Creepy Bluff were +nearer. Thus moved, his pace increased--with ever-increasing peril to +himself. He must make haste! + +What befell the boy came suddenly. He trusted his feet to a drift of +snow. Quick as a flash, and all unready, he was submerged in the water +beneath. + +FOOTNOTE: + +[6] Sealing. + + + + +CHAPTER XVII + + _Billy Topsail Wrings Out His Clothes and Finds Himself + Cut off From Shore by Thirty Yards of Heaving Ice_ + + +BILLY could swim--could swim like any Newfoundland dog bred in Green +Bay. Moreover, the life he led--the rugged, venturesome calling of the +shore fishermen--had inured him to sudden danger. First of all he freed +himself from the cumbersome mail-bag. He would not have abandoned it +had he not been in such case as when, as the Newfoundlanders say, it +was "every hand for his life." + +Then he made for the surface with swift, strong strokes. A few more +strokes brought him to the edge of the ice. He clambered out, still +gasping for breath, and turned about to account to himself for his +predicament. + +The drift of snow had collapsed; he observed that it had covered some +part of a wide hole, and that the exposed water was almost of a colour +with the ice beyond--a polished black. Hence, he did not bitterly blame +himself for the false step, as he might have done had he plunged +himself into obvious danger through carelessness. He did not wonder +that he had been deceived. + +Her Majesty's mail, so far as the boy could determine, was slowly +sinking to the bottom of the bay. + +There was no help in regret. To escape from the bitter wind and the +dusk, now fast falling, was the present duty. He could think of all the +rest when he had leisure to sit before the fire and dream. He took off +his jacket and wrung it out--a matter of some difficulty, for it was +already stiff with frost. His shirt followed--then his boots and his +trousers. Soon he was stripped to his rosy skin. The wind, sweeping in +from the open sea, stung him as it whipped past. + +When the last garment was wrung out he was shivering, and his teeth +were chattering so fast that he could not keep them still. Dusk soon +turns to night on this coast, and the night comes early. There was +left but time enough to reach the first of the goat-paths at Creepy +Bluff, two miles away--not time to finish the overland tramp to Ruddy +Cove--before darkness fell. + +When he was about to dress, his glance chanced to pass over the water. +The mail-bag--it could be nothing else--was floating twenty-yards off +the ice. It had been prepared with cork for such accidents, which not +infrequently befall it. + +"'Tis Her Majesty's mail, b'y," Billy could hear the mailman say. + +"But 'tis more than I can carry t' Ruddy Cove now," he thought. + +Nevertheless, he made no move to put on his shirt. He continued to look +at the mail-bag. "'Tis the mail--gov'ment mail," he thought again. +Then, after a rueful look at the water: "Sure, nobody'll know that it +floated. 'Tis as much as I can do t' get myself safe t' Gull Cove. I'd +freeze on the way t' Ruddy Cove." + +There was no comfort in these excuses. There, before him, was the bag. +It was in plain sight. It had not sunk. He would fail in his duty to +the country if he left it floating there. It was an intolerable thought! + +"'Tis t' Ruddy Cove I'll take that bag this day," he muttered. + +He let himself gingerly into the water, and struck out. It was bitter +cold, but he persevered, with fine courage, until he had his arm +safely linked through the strap of the bag. It was the country he +served! In some vague form this thought sounded in his mind, repeating +itself again and again, while he swam for the ice with the bag in tow. + +He drew himself out with much difficulty, hauled the mail-bag after +him, and proceeded to dress with all speed. His clothes were frozen +stiff, and he had to beat them on the ice to soften them; but the +struggle to don them sent the rich blood rushing through his body, and +he was warmed to a glow. + +On went the bag, and off went the boy. When he came to the firmer ice, +and Creepy Bluff was within half a mile, the wind carried this cheery +song up the bay: + + Lukie's boat is painted green, + The finest boat that ever was seen; + Lukie's boat has cotton sails, + A juniper rudder and galvanized nails. + +At Creepy Bluff, which the wind strikes with full force, the ice was +breaking up inshore. The gale had risen with the coming of the night. +Great seas spent their force beneath the ice--cracking it, breaking it, +slowly grinding it to pieces against the rocks. + +The Bluff marks the end of the bay. No ice forms beyond. Thus the waves +swept in with unbroken power, and were fast reducing the shore cakes to +a mass of fragments. Paul was cut off from the shore by thirty yards of +heaving ice. No bit of it would bear his weight; nor, so fine had it +been ground, could he leap from place to place as he had done before. + +"'Tis sprawl I must," he thought. + +The passage was no new problem. He had been in such case more than +once upon his return from the offshore seal-hunt. Many fragments would +together bear him up, where few would sink beneath him. He lay flat on +his stomach, and, with the gaff to help support him, crawled out from +the solid place, dragging the bag. His body went up and down with the +ice. Now an arm was thrust through, again a leg went under water. + +Progress was fearfully slow. Inch by inch he gained on the +shore--crawling--crawling steadily. All the while he feared that the +great pans would drift out and leave the fragments room to disperse. +Once he had to spread wide his arms and legs and pause until the ice +was packed closer. + +"Two yards more--only two yards more!" he could say at last. + +Once on the road to Ruddy Cove, which he well knew, his spirits rose; +and with a cheery mood came new strength. It was a rough road, up hill +and down again, through deep snowdrifts and over slippery rocks. Night +fell; but there was light enough to show the way, save in the deeper +valleys, and there he had to struggle along as best he might. + +Step after step, hill after hill, thicket after thicket: cheerfully he +trudged on; for the mail-bag was safe on his back, and Ruddy Cove was +but three miles distant. Three was reduced to two, two to one, one to +the last hill. + +From the crest of Ruddy Rock he could look down on the lights of the +harbour--yellow lights, lying in the shadows of the valley. There was +a light in the post-office. They were waiting for him there--waiting +for their letters--waiting to send the mail on to the north. In a few +minutes he could say that Her Majesty's mail had been brought safe to +Ruddy Cove. + + * * * * * + +"Be the mail come?" + +Billy looked up from his seat by the roaring fire in the post-office. +An old woman had come in. There was a strange light in her eyes--the +light of a hope which survives, spite of repeated disappointment. + +"Sure, Aunt Esther; 'tis here at last." + +"Be there a letter for me?" + +Billy hoped that there was. He longed to see those gentle eyes +shine--to see the famished look disappear. + +"No, Aunt Esther; 'tis not come yet. Maybe 'twill come next----" + +"Sure, I've waited these three year," she said, with a trembling lip. +"'Tis from me son----" + +"Ha!" cried the postmaster. "What's this? 'Tis all blurred by the +water. 'Missus E--s--B--l--g--e--l.' Sure, 'tis you, woman. 'Tis a +letter for you at last!" + +"'Tis from me son!" the old woman muttered eagerly. "'Tis t' tell me +where he is, an'--an'--when he's comin' home. Thank God, the mail came +safe the night." + +What if Billy had left the mail-bag to soak and sink in the waters of +the bay? What if he had failed in his duty to the people? How many +other such letters might there not be in that bag for the mothers and +fathers of the northern ports? + +"Thank God," he thought, "that Her Majesty's mail came safe the night!" + +Then he went off home, and met Bobby Lot on the way. + +"Hello!" said Bobby. "Got back?" + +"Hello yourself!" said Billy. "I did." + +They eyed each other delightedly; they were too boyish to shake hands. + +"How's the ice?" asked Bobby Lot. + +"Not bad," said Billy. + + + + +CHAPTER XVIII + + _In Which Billy Topsail Joins the Whaler Viking and a + School is Sighted_ + +OF a sunny afternoon the Newfoundland coastal steamer _Clyde_ dropped +Billy Topsail at Snook's Arm, the lair of the whaler _Viking_: a +deep, black inlet of the sea, fouled by the blood and waste flesh of +forgotten victims, from the slimy edge of which, where a score of +whitewashed cottages were squatted, the rugged hills lifted their heads +to the clean blue of the sky and fairly held their noses. It was all +the manager's doing. Billy had but given him direction through the fog +from Mad Mull to the landing place of the mail-boat. This was at Ruddy +Cove, in the spring, when the manager was making an annual visit to the +old skipper. + +"If you want a berth for the summer, Billy," he had said, "you can be +ship's boy on the _Viking_." + +On the _Viking_--the whaler! Billy was not in doubt. And so it came to +pass, in due course of time, that the _Clyde_ dropped him at Snook's +Arm. + +At half-past three of the next morning, when the dark o' night was but +lightened by a rosy promise out to sea, the _Viking's_ lines were cast +off. At half speed the little steamer moved out upon the quiet waters +of the Arm, where the night still lay thick and cold--slipped with +a soft chug! chug! past the high, black hills; factory and cottages +melting with the mist and shadows astern, and the new day glowing in +the eastern sky. She was an up-to-date, wide-awake little monster, with +seventy-five kills to her credit in three months, again composedly +creeping from the lair to the hunt, equipped with deadly weapons of +offense. + +"'Low we'll get one the day, sir?" Billy asked the cook. + +"Wonderful quiet day," replied the cook, dubiously. "'Twill be hard +fishin'." + +The fin-back whale is not a stupid, passive monster, to be slaughtered +off-hand; nor is the sea a well-ordered shambles. Within the experience +of the _Viking's_ captain, one fin-back wrecked a schooner with a quick +slap of the tail, and another looked into the forecastle of an iron +whaler from below. The fin-back is the biggest, fleetest, shyest whale +of them all; until an ingenious Norwegian invented the harpoon gun, +they wallowed and multiplied in the Newfoundland waters undisturbed. +They were quite safe from pursuit; no whaler of the old school dreamed +of taking after them in his cockle shell--they were too wary and fleet +for that. + +"Ay," the cook repeated; "on a day like this a whale can _play_ with +the _Viking_." + +The _Viking_ was an iron screw-steamer, designed for chasing whales, +and for nothing else. She was mostly engines, winches and gun. She +could slip along, without much noise, at sixteen knots an hour; and +she could lift sixty tons from the bottom of the sea with her little +finger. Her gun--the swivel gun, with a three-inch bore, pitched at the +bow, clear of everything--could drive a four-foot, 123-pound harpoon +up to the hilt in the back of a whale if within range; and the harpoon +itself--it protruded from the muzzle of the gun, with the rope attached +to the shaft and coiled below--was a deadly missile. It was tipped with +an iron bomb, which was designed to explode in the quarry's vitals when +the rope snapped taut, and with half a dozen long barbs, which were to +spread and take hold at the same instant. + +"Well," Billy Topsail sighed, his glance on the gun and the harpoon, +"if they hits a whale, that there arrow ought t' do the work!" + +"It does," said the cook, quietly. + +All morning long, they were all alive on deck--every man of that +Norwegian crew, from the grinning man in the crow's nest, which was +lashed to a stubby yellow mast, to the captain on the gun platform, +with the glass to his eyes, and the stokers who stuck their heads out +of the engine room for a breath of fresh air. The squat, grim little +_Viking_ was speeding across Notre Dame Bay, with a wide, frothy wake +behind her, and the water curling from her bows. She was for all +the world like a man making haste to business in the morning, the +appointment being, in this case, off a low, gray coast, which the +lifting haze was but then disclosing. + +It was broad day: the sea was quiet, the sun shining brightly, the sky +a cloudless blue; a fading breeze ruffled the water, and the ripples +flashed in the sunlight. Dead ahead and far away, where the gray of +the coast rocks shaded to the blue of the sea, little puffs of spray +were drifting off with the light wind, like the puff of smoke from a +distant rifle: they broke and drifted and vanished. + +From time to time mirror-flashes of light--swift little flashes--struck +Billy's eyes and darted away. Puff after puff of spray, flash after +flash of light: the far-off sea seemed to be alive with the quarry. But +where was the thrilling old cry of "There she blows!" or its Norwegian +equivalent? The lookout had but spoken a quiet word to the captain, +who, in turn, had spoken a quiet word to the steersman. + +"W'ales," said the captain, whose English had its limitations. "Ho--far +off!" + + + + +CHAPTER XIX + + _In which the Chase is Kept up and the Captain Promises + Himself a Kill_ + +THE number of whales was less than the captain of the _Viking_ had +thought. When the vessel came up with the school, however, there were +twenty or more fin-backs to pick and choose from. They lay on every +hand, wallowing at the surface of the sea and spouting thick, low +streams of water with evident delight: whales far and near, big and +small, in pairs and threes, rising and gently sinking, blowing and +_hon-g-king_, and, at last, arching their broad, finned backs for the +long dive. + +The breathing spell was of two or three minutes' duration, the dive +of five or ten, and might last much longer. Billy was told that as +the whales went thus, rising and diving, they travelled in a circle, +feeding on young caplin and herring, squid and crustaceans. He had +never thought to admire the grace of a whale; but his admiration was +compelled: the ponderous, ill-proportioned monsters were so perfectly +adapted to the element they were in that the languor and grace with +which they moved was a delight--particularly when they arched their +glistening black backs and softly, languidly vanished. + +But meantime the _Viking_ was lying silent and still; and-- + +"_Hon-g-k!_" from off the port bow. + +"Ha!" exclaimed the captain. + +A big whale had risen. The long "_Hon-g-k!_" as he had inhaled a small +cyclone of breath was sufficient to tell that. He was big and he was +near. + +"Full speed!" quietly from the captain in Norwegian. + +The steersman had already spun the wheel without orders. The _Viking_ +swung in a half circle and made for the whale at top speed. There +was just a quiver of excitement abroad--a deepening glitter in the +eyes of the crew, and silence. The rush was upon the whale from +behind--instant, swift, straight: the engines chug-chugged and the +water swished noisily at the bows. There was no lying in ambush, no +stalking: it was sight your game and make for him. + +The captain leaned lazily on the gun, which he had not yet swung into +position for firing; his legs were crossed, though the whale was not a +hundred yards away, and he was placidly smoking his pipe. The fin-back +lay dead ahead now, apparently unconscious of the _Viking's_ approach, +and she was soon so near that his escape seemed to Billy to be beyond +the barest chance. The captain waved his hand, calmly looked over the +sea, and fell again into his careless position, with one eye on the +whale. + +At once the engines stopped and the _Viking_ slipped softly on with +diminishing speed. When she was within thirty yards of the whale, +each separate muscle of Billy's body was tight with excitement--but +the whale arched his back and slipped down deep into the water with a +contemptuous swing of his broad, strong tail. + +"Psh-h!" exclaimed the captain, giving one slippered foot a kick with +the other. "Psh!" + +They were running over a stretch of frothy, swirling water, where the +whale had lain a moment before. + +"_Hon-g-k_!" from off the starboard quarter. + +The captain signaled the steersman, who shouted "Full speed!" down the +wheel-house tube. In a flash they were chug-chugging in haste after +another whale--which eluded them at once, with no more fuss than the +first had made: no blowing and frantic splashing; just a lifting of the +back and a languid swing of the tail. Thus the third, the fourth, the +fifth: again and again, through the hours of that quiet morning, they +gave chase; but all to no purpose--on the contrary, indeed, with the +bad effect of alarming the whole school. The whales made sport of them; +the flash of their fins, as they slipped away beyond pursuit, was most +aggravating. + +Soon the captain's "Psh!" became guttural, and communicated itself +to the man in the crow's-nest and the engineer who was off duty; the +elusive fin-backs were too much for the patience of them all. But for +hours the "old man" leaned on the gun and smoked his pipe, intent on +the chase through every moment of that time. He kicked his right foot +with his left; his broad back shook with rage; strange ejaculations +drifted back with the clouds of tobacco smoke: that was all. Repeated +disappointment but heightened the alertness and eagerness of the crew. +Every lost whale was dismissed with a "Psh-h!" and quite forgotten in +the pursuit of the next one. + +Nine hours out from Snook's Arm and six with the school without +pointing a gun! + +"Agh!" the captain exclaimed, jumping from the gun platform, at last, +"the whale captain have the worst business of all men. Agh! but I wish +for rough seas. But I wish I had my harpoon in the back of some whale." + +All days are not blue. Before the summer was over, Billy Topsail +learned there were times when the _Viking_ put out from the shelter of +Snook's Arm to a sea that _is_ rough. A gale from the northeast, gray +and gusty, whips up the white horses, and frost gives new weight to the +water. Wind and fog and high seas and sleet make the chase perilous +as well as bitter. She stumbles through the waves and wallows in the +trough with a clear-cut duty before her--to catch and kill a whale: the +little niceties of dodging breaking waves cannot be indulged in when +all manoevering must be directed towards coming up with the quarry +from the proper firing-quarter. + +But Billy's first day was clear and quiet; and the whales were having a +glorious innings with the enemy. + + * * * * * + +By noon the prospects for a kill had faded to a bare possibility; the +school had been well scattered. Down the coast and up the coast, out to +sea and far away across the bay, puffs of spray made known the various +directions the whales had taken. About two o'clock--ten hours out from +Snook's Arm, with no let up in duty--the crew were attracted by the +deep, long _hon-g-k_ of a big fellow out to sea and by the spouting of +his two companions: a group of three, male and female, doubtless, with +a well-grown young one. They gave chase. Captain and crew had come to +that pass when fury gets the better of patience. + +It was determined to hunt that little school to the death or until deep +night put an end to the chase. + +"I get 'im," said the captain between his teeth. "He is big. I get +him--or none." + +It was not easy to get him. They were led twenty miles to sea in short +rushes, each of which ended in disappointment and elicited a storm of +guttural ejaculations; they were lured inshore, where submerged rocks +were a menace; they were taken up the coast and back again towards the +islands of the lower shore and once more to sea. Mile after mile--hour +after hour! They came near--they could have hit the beast with a +stone. Occasionally the captain swung the gun into position and put a +hand on the trigger; but the arching back always gave notice, in good +time, that he had been balked again. They tried to guess the point +where the quarry would rise; they steamed near that point, and lay +there waiting. + +"_Hon-g-k_!" from half a mile astern. + +"Agh!" cried the captain, chagrin twisting his face. "The whale captain +have pos--ee--tiv--lee the worst----! Full speed!" + +Off again in persistent chase. Meantime the sun had declined; evening +was drawing on, with gray clouds mounting in the west, and a breeze +rising inshore. The sea was spread with shadow, and all the ripples +grew to little waves, which, hissing as they broke, obscured the swish +of water at our bows. The opportunity was better, and the whales, it +may be, had acquired the inevitable contempt that familiarity breeds. +The _Viking_ crept nearer. Each time, a little nearer; and, by and by, +when she had come within range--within range for the first time that +day--and was running at half speed, with the grayish-black backs most +temptingly exposed, the captain dropped the muzzle of the gun, took +swift sight, and--swung the gun around with impatient force! The whale +was gone on the long dive before a vital spot had been exposed. + +There was no impatience of action aboard the _Viking_: the harpoon +might even then have been fast in the whale's back, but the captain had +coolly withheld his stroke until the opportunity should be precisely +what he sought. And this display of patience after a fruitless chase of +fifteen hours! Billy Topsail gasped his disappointment. But the captain +laughed. + +"I get him yet," he said. "Soon, now," after a look at sea and +darkening sky. + + + + +CHAPTER XX + + _The Mate of the Fin-Back Whale Rises for the Last Time, + With a Blood-Red Sunset Beyond, and Billy Topsail + Says, "Too bad!"_ + + +HALF a mile ahead the whales rose. The _Viking_ crept near without +giving alarm, and waited for them to dive and rise again. The warning +swish and _hon-g-k_ sounded next from off the port bow. There was a +shout from the crew. The school lay close in, headed away; they were +splashing and blissfully _hon-g-king_--and the _Viking_ not fifty yards +distant. She was upon them from behind before they had well drawn +breath. Steam was shut off. The captain's eye was at the butt of the +gun, and his hand was on the trigger. The boat crept nearer--so near +that Billy Topsail could have leaped from the bow to the back of the +young whale; and she was fast losing way. + +But it was not the young whale that the captain wanted. He held his +fire. Down went the young one. Down went the bull whale. But had he +arched his back? The old female wallowed a moment longer and dived +with arched back. She barely escaped the _Viking's_ bows and might +have been mortally harpooned with ease. But it was not the female that +the captain wanted. It was the big male. There was not a whale in +sight. Still the captain kept his eye at the butt of the gun and his +hand on the trigger. + +A moment later--the steamer was slipping along very slowly--the water +ahead was disturbed. The back of the bull whale appeared. A stream of +water shot into the air and broke like a fountain. The _Viking_ kept +pace--gained; momentarily creeping nearer, until the range was but ten +yards. Then the whale, as though taking alarm, arched his back; and---- + +Bang! + +The puff of smoke drifted away. Billy Topsail caught sight of the +harpoon, sunk to the hilt in the whale's side. Then the waters closed +over the wounded beast. + +"Ha!" cried the captain, jumping from the platform, and strutting about +with his thumbs in the armholes of his waistcoat. "Did you see me? Ha! +It is over!" + +A cheer broke from the crew. The men ran forward to their stations at +the winch. + +"Ha!" the captain repeated with intense satisfaction, his ruddy face +wreathed in smiles. "Did you see me? Ha-a-a-a! It is a dead w'ale." + +[Illustration: "IT IS A DEAD W'ALE!"] + +The harpoon line was paying out slowly, controlled by a big steam +winch--a gigantic fishing reel. The engines were stopped; but the +_Viking_ was going forward at a lively rate as the catch plunged down +and on. Minute after minute slipped away--five minutes; then the rope +slackened somewhat, and, a moment later, the big whale came to the +surface and spouted streams of blood--streams as red as the streak of +sunset light in the gray sky beyond him. He floundered there in agony, +blowing and _hon-g-king_ and beating the sea with his tail: turning the +water crimson with his blood. + +It took him a long, long time to die, frightfully torn by the bomb +though he was. He dived and rose and coughed; and at last he sank +slowly down, down, and still down; drawing out a hundred and forty +fathom of line: straight down to the bottom of the sea in that place. +From time to time the captain touched the rope with his fingers; +and when the tremour of life had passed from it he gave the signal +to haul away. Half an hour later the carcass of the monster was +inflated with gas, lying belly up at the surface of the water, and +lashed by the tail to the port bow of the steamer. + +Off the starboard quarter--far away where the dusk had gathered--the +mate of the dead whale rose, _hon-g-ked_, dived and was seen no more. + +"Too bad!" muttered Billy Topsail. + + + + +CHAPTER XXI + + _In Which Billy Topsail Goes Fishing in Earnest. + Concerning, also, Feather's Folly of the Devil's + Teeth, Mary Robinson, and the Wreck of the Fish + Killer_ + + +FEATHER'S FOLLY was one of a group of troublesome islands lying off +Cape Grief on the way to the Labrador. Surveyed by a generously +inaccurate apprentice it might have measured an acre. It was as barren +as an old bone; but a painstaking man, with unimpaired eyesight, if he +lingered long and lovingly enough over the task, could doubtless have +discovered more than one blade of grass. There is no adjective in the +English language adequate to describe its forbidding appearance as +viewed from the sea in a gale of wind. + +On the chart it was a mere dot--a nameless rock, the outermost of a +group most happily called the Devil's Teeth. To the Labrador fishermen, +bound north from Newfoundland in the spring, bound south, with their +loads of green cod, in the fall, it was the Cocked Hat. This name, +too, is aptly descriptive; many a schooner, caught in the breakers, +had, as the old proverb hath it, been knocked into that condition, or +worse. But to the folk of the immediate coast, and especially of Hulk's +Harbour, which lies within sight on the mainland, it was for long known +as Feather's Folly. + +Old Bill Feather had once been wrecked on the Cocked Hat. The little +_Lucky Lass_, bound to Hulk's Harbour from the Hen-and-Chickens, +and sunk to the scupper-holes with green fish, had struck in a fog. +Four minutes later she had gone down with all hands save Bill. An +absentminded breaker had deposited him high and dry on a ledge of the +northeast cliff; needless to say, it was much to Bill's surprise. For +five days the castaway had shivered and starved on the barren rock. +This was within sight of the chimney-smoke of home--of the harbour +tickle, of the cottage roofs; even, in clear weather, of the flakes and +stage of his own place. + +"It won't happen again," vowed Bill, when they took his lean, sore hulk +home. + +What Bill did--what he planned and accomplished in the face of ridicule +and adverse fortune--earned the rock the name of Feather's Folly in +that neighbourhood. + +"Anyhow," old Bill was in the habit of repeating, to defend himself, "I +'low it won't happen again. An' I'll _see_ that it don't!" + +But season followed season, without event; and the Cocked Hat was still +known as Feather's Folly. + +Billy Topsail was to learn this. + + * * * * * + +It was early in the spring of the year--too early by half, the old +salts said, for Labrador craft to put out from the Newfoundland ports. +Thick, vagrant fogs, drifting with the variable winds, were abroad +on all the coast; and the Arctic current was spread with drift ice +from the upper shores and with great bergs from the glaciers of the +far north. But Skipper Libe Tussel, of the thirty-ton _Fish Killer_, +hailing from Ruddy Cove, was a firm believer in the fortunes of the +early bird; moreover, he was determined that the skipper of the _Cod +Trap_, hailing from Fortune, should not this season preëmpt his +trap-berth on the Thigh Bone fishing grounds. So the _Fish Killer_ was +underway for the north, early as it was; and she was cheerily game to +face the chances of wind and ice, if only she might beat the _Cod Trap_ +to the favourable opportunities of the Thigh Bone grounds off Indian +Harbour. + +"It's thick," Robinson remarked to the skipper. + +"_'Tis_ thick." + +Billy Topsail, now grown old enough for the adventurous voyage to the +Labrador coast, was aboard; and he listened to this exchange with a +deal of interest. It was his first fishing voyage; he had been north +in the _Rescue_, to be sure, but that was no more than a cruise, +undertaken to relieve the starving fishermen of the upper harbours. At +last, he was fishing in earnest--really aboard the _Fish Killer_, bound +north, there to fish the summer through, in all sorts of weather, with +a share in the catch at the end of it! He was vastly delighted by this: +for 'twas a man's work he was about, and 'twas a man's work he was +wanting to do. + +"Thick as mud," said Robinson, with a little shiver. + +"'S mud," the skipper responded, in laconic agreement. + +And it _was_ thick! The fog had settled at mid-day. A fearsome array +of icebergs had then been in sight, and the low coast, with the snow +still upon it, had to leeward shone in the brilliant sunlight. But +now, with the afternoon not yet on the wane, the day had turned murky +and damp. A bank of black fog had drifted in from the open sea. Ice +and shore had disappeared. The limit of vision approached, possibly, +but did not attain, twenty-five yards. The weather was thick, indeed; +the schooner seemed to be winging along through a boundless cloud; and +there was a smart breeze blowing, and the circle of sea, in the exact +centre of which the schooner floated, was choppy and black. + +"Thick enough," Skipper Libe echoed, thoughtfully. "But," he added, +"you wouldn't advise heavin' to, would you?" + +"No, no!" Robinson exclaimed. "I'm too anxious to get to Indian +Harbour." + +"And I," muttered the skipper, with an anxious look ahead, "to make the +Thigh Bone grounds. But----" + +"Give her all the wind she'll carry," said Robinson. "It won't bother +me." + +"I thinks," the skipper continued, ignoring the interruption, "that +I'll shorten sail. For," said he, "I'm thinkin' the old girl might +bleed at the nose if she happened t' bump a berg." + +While the crew reduced the canvas, Robinson went below. He was the +Hudson's Bay Company's agent at Dog Arm of the Labrador, which is close +to Indian Harbour. In January, with his invalid daughter in a dog-sled, +he had journeyed from that far place to Desolate Bay of Newfoundland, +and thence by train to St. John's. It had been a toilsome, dangerous, +incredibly bitter experience. But he had forgotten that, nor had he +ever complained of it; his happiness was that his child had survived +the surgeons' operation, had profited in ease and hope, had already +been restored near to her old sunny health. Early in the spring, word +of the proposed sailing of the _Fish Killer_ from Ruddy Cove had come +to him at St. John's; and he had taken passage with Skipper Libe, no +more, it must be said, because he wished Mary's mother to know the good +news (she had had no word since his departure) than because he was +breathlessly impatient once more to be serving the company's interests +at Dog Arm. + +To Mary and her father Skipper Libe had with seamanlike courtesy +abandoned the tiny cabin. The child was lying in the skipper's own +berth--warmly covered, comfortably tucked in, provided with a book to +read by the light of the swinging lamp. + +"Are you happy, dear?" her father asked. + +"Oh, yes!" + +The man took the child's hand. "I'm sometimes sorry," he said, "that +we didn't wait for the mail-boat. The _Fish Killer_ is a pretty tough +craft for a little girl to be aboard." + +"Sorry?" was the instant response, made with a little smile. "I'm not. +I'm glad. Isn't Cape Grief close to leeward? Well, then, father, we're +half way home. Think of it! _We're--half--way--home!_" + +The father laughed. + +"And we might have been waiting at St. John's," the child continued, +her blue eyes shining. "Oh, father, I'd rather be aboard the _Fish +Killer_ off Grief Head than in the very best room of the Crosbie Hotel. +Half way home!" she repeated. "Half way home!" + +"Half way is a long way." + +"But it's half way!" + +"On this coast," the father sighed, "no man is home until he gets +there." + +"It's a fair wind." + +"And the fog as thick as mud." + +"But they've reefed the mains'l; they've stowed the stays'l; they've +got the tops'l down. Haven't you heard them? I've been listening----" + +"_What's that!_" Robinson cried. + +It was a mere ejaculation of terror. He had no need to ask the +question. Even Mary knew well enough what had happened. The _Fish +Killer_ had struck an iceberg bow on. The shock; the crash forward; +the clatter of a falling topmast; the cries on deck: these things were +alive with the fearful information. + + + + +CHAPTER XXII + + _The Crew of the Fish Killer Finds Refuge on an Iceberg, + and Discovers Greater Safety Elsewhere, after Which + the Cook is Mistaken for a Fool, but puts the Crew to + Shame_ + + +ROBINSON caught the child from the berth. He paused--it was an instinct +born of Labrador experience--to wrap a blanket about her, though she +was clothed for the day. She reminded him quietly that she would catch +cold without her cap; and this he snatched in passing. Then he was on +deck--in the midst of a litter from aloft and of a vast confusion of +terrified cries. + +Before she struck, the _Fish Killer_ had ascended a gently shelving +beach of ice, washed smooth by the sea. There she hung precariously. +Her stem was low, so low that the choppy sea came aboard and swamped +the cabin; and the bow was high on the ice. Her bowsprit was in +splinters, her topmast on deck, her spliced mainmast tottering; she was +the bedraggled wreck of a craft. + +Beyond, the berg towered into the fog, stretched into the fog; only a +broken wall of blue-white ice was visible. The butt of the bowsprit +overhung a wide ledge. To scramble to the shattered extremity, to hang +by the hands, to drop to safe foothold: this would all have been easy +for children. The impulse was to seek the solid berg in haste before +the schooner had time to fall away and sink. + +Robinson ran forward. + +"Got that kid?" Skipper Libe demanded. "Ah, you has! Billy Topsail!" he +roared. + +Billy answered. + +"Get ashore on that ice!" the skipper ordered. + +Billy ran out on the broken bowsprit and dropped to the berg. He looked +back expectantly. + +"Take the kid!" + +A push sent Robinson on the same road. He dropped Mary into Billy's +waiting arms. Then he, too, looked back for orders. + +"Ashore with you!" + +Robinson swung by the hands and dropped. Before he let go his hands he +had felt the vessel quiver and begin to recede from her position. + +"Now, men," said the skipper, "grub! She'll be off in a minute." + +Every man of them leaped willingly to the imperative duty. The food +was in the forecastle and hold; they disappeared. Skipper Libe kept +watch on deck. With the waves restless beneath her stern, the schooner +was perilously insecure. She was gradually working her way back to the +sea. The briefest glance below had already assured Skipper Libe that +her timbers were hopelessly sprung. + +She was old--rotten with age and hard service. The water was pouring in +forward and amidships; it ran aft in a flood, contributing its weight +to the vessel's inclination to slip away from the berg. It was slow +in the beginning, this retreat; but through every moment the movement +was accelerated. Five minutes--four--three: in a space too brief to be +counted upon she would be wallowing in the sea. + +"Haste!" the skipper screamed. + +Waiting was out of the question. The _Fish Killer_ was about +to drop into the sea. Though the men had but tumbled into the +forecastle--though as yet they had had no time to seize the food of +which to-morrow would find them in desperate need--the skipper roared +the order to return. + +"Ashore! Ashore!" he shouted. + +They came back more willingly, more expeditiously, than they had gone; +and they came back empty-handed. Not a man among them had so much as a +single biscuit. + +"Jim!" said the skipper. + +With that, Jim Tall, the cook, clambered out on the bowsprit. The +others of the crew waited, each with an anxious eye upon the skipper. + +"Bill!" + +No sooner was Jim Tall at the end of the bowsprit than Bill was +underway. The skipper grimly watched his terrified progress. + +"Jack!" + +In turn, Jack Sop scrambled out and dropped to the berg. The schooner +was fast receding from the ledge. Alexander Budge, John Swan, Archibald +Mann, completing the fishing crew, with the exception of Tom Watt, the +first hand, and the skipper, won the ice. + +"Now, Tom!" said the skipper. + +"You, sir!" + +"Tom!" Skipper Libe roared; and you may be sure that Tom Watt waited no +longer. + +Only the skipper was left. The change from his passive attitude--from +his unbending, reposeful attitude, with a hand carelessly laid on the +windlass--was so sudden and unequivocal that Jim Tall, the cook, who +was ever the wag of the crew, startled even himself with laughter. It +was instant. Skipper Libe in a flash turned from a petrified man into a +terrified and marvellously agile monkey. He bounded for the bowsprit, +nimbly ran the broken length of it, and there stood swaying. The vessel +was now so far from the ledge, and so fast receding, that he paused. +Delay had but one issue. This was so apparent that horror tied the +tongues of the crew. Not a cry of warning was uttered. The situation +was too intense, too brief, for utterance. + +"Tom," said the skipper to the first hand, "catch!" + +He leaped. + +"Skipper," said Tom Watt, in the uttermost confusion, an instant later, +"glad t' see you! Come in! You isn't a minute too early." + +In this way, proceeding with admirable self-possession, the souls +aboard the _Fish Killer_ jumped from the frying-pan. Whether or not +it was into the fire was not for a moment in doubt. When the schooner +had once fairly reached the sea, which immediately happened, she sank. +They saw her waver, slowly settle, disappear; when her topmast went +tottering under water the end had come. + +Whatever may be said of a frying-pan, nobody can accuse the crew of the +_Fish Killer_ of having come within reach of a fire. Aboard the berg +it was cold--awfully cold. Icebergs carry an atmosphere of that sort +even into the Gulf Stream; they radiate cold so effectively that the +captains of steamers take warning and evade them. It was cold--very, +very cold. There was nothing to temper the numbing bitterness of the +situation. And what the night might bring could only be surmised. + + * * * * * + +Though they were born to lives of hardship and peril, though they had +long been used to the chances of the sea, not one of the castaways had +ever before fallen into a predicament so barren of hope. Flung on an +iceberg, adrift on the wild North Atlantic, derelict where no ships +passed, at the mercy of the capricious winds, without food or fire: +there seemed to be no possibility of escape. But for a time they did +not despair; and, moreover, for a time each felt it a high duty to make +light of the situation, to joke of cold-storage and polar bears, that +the spirits of the others might be encouraged. As dusk approached, +however, the ghastly humour failed. Ruin, agony, grief, imminent death; +in the moody silence, they dwelt, rather, upon these things. + +It was not yet dark when a faint shock, a hardly perceptible shiver, +a crash from aloft, a subsiding rumble, apprised the castaways of a +portentous change of condition. + +"What's that, now?" growled the cook. + +It was a cruelly anxious moment. Only the event itself would determine +whether or not the berg was to turn turtle. They waited. + +"She's grounded, I 'low!" exclaimed the skipper. + +There was no further disturbance. Whatever had happened, the +equilibrium of the berg had been maintained. + +"I'm thinkin'," said the skipper, "that I'll take a little look about." + +The skipper's "little look about" developed what appeared to be a +saving opportunity. The berg had grounded; it had also jammed a +wandering pack of drift-ice against the land. What that shore was, +whether mainland or island, the skipper did not wait to ascertain; it +was sufficient for him to know that the survivors of the _Fish Killer_ +might escape from a disintegrating berg to solid ground. + +He returned, breathless, with the enlivening news; and in lively +fashion, which almost approached a panic, the castaways abandoned the +berg. It was a hard, painful, dangerous scramble, made in the failing +light, and the cook had an unwelcome bath in the icy water between +two pans; but it had a successful issue. Before dark, they were all +ashore--more hopeful, now, than they had been, but still staring death +in the face. + +So curious was Skipper Libe that, taking advantage of the last of the +light, he set out to discover the character of the refuge. He returned +discouraged. + +"'Tis but a rock," said he. "'Tis no more than a speck o' land." + +Then night fell. Robinson's little daughter was by this time on the +point of succumbing to the exposure. Cold, hunger and despair had +reduced her to a pitiable silence. She was in the extremity of physical +exhaustion. They made a deep hollow in the snow in the shelter of a +declivity of rock; and there they bestowed her, gladly yielding their +jackets to provide her with such comfort as they could. But this was +small mitigation of the hardship. The child was still hopeless and +cold. It was sadly apparent that she could not survive the night. And +Robinson knew that to-morrow and to-morrow--a long stretch of days--lay +before them all. There was no hope for a frail body; weakness was +death. In his heart he frankly admitted that he was about to lose his +child. + +He lay down beside her. "Mary, dear," he pleaded, "don't give up!" + +She pressed his hand. + +"Don't give up!" he repeated. + +A wan smile came and went. "I can't help it," she whispered. + +Skipper Libe and his men withdrew. It was now near midnight. The fog +was lifting. Stars twinkled in patches of black sky. Low towards the +seaward horizon the moon was breaking through the clouds. + +Suddenly the cook sat bolt upright. "Skipper," he demanded, "where is +we?" + +"On the Devil's Teeth." + +"An' what rock's this?" + +"This?" + +"Ay--_this_!" + +"I'd not be s'prised," the skipper answered, "if 'tis what they calls +the Cocked Hat." + +"Feather's Folly!" roared the cook. + +"Which?" said the skipper, suspiciously. + +The cook was on his feet--dancing in glad excitement. "Feather's +Folly!" he shouted "Feather's Folly!" + +"Catch un!" said the skipper, quietly. "He've gone mad." + +They set upon the poor cook. Before he could escape they had him fast. +He was tripped, thrown, sat upon. + +"Don't let him up," the skipper warned. "He'll do hisself hurt. Poor +man!" he sighed. "He've lost his senses." + +"Mad!" screamed the cook. "_You're_ mad. Feather's Folly! We're saved!" + +"Hold un tight," said the skipper. + +But the cook was not to be held. He wriggled free and bolted. Billy +Topsail and all took after him, the skipper in the lead; and by the +dim, changing light of that night he led them a mad chase over rock and +through drifted snow. They pursued, they headed him off, they laid hold +of his flying coat-tail; but he eluded them, dodged, sped, doubled. +If he were mad, there was method in his madness. He was searching +every square yard of that acre of uneven rock. At last, panting and +perspiring, he came to a full stop and turned triumphantly upon his +pursuers. He had found what he sought. + +"Mad!" he laughed. "Who's mad, now? Eh? Who's crazy?" + +The crew stared. + +"Who's crazy?" the cook roared. "Look at that! What d'ye make o' that?" + +"It looks," the skipper admitted, "like salvation!" + + * * * * * + +Old man Feather had indeed "seen that it wouldn't happen again." He +had provided for castaways on the Cocked Hat. There was a tight little +hut in the lee of the Bishop's Nose; within, there were provisions +and blankets and fire-wood and candles. Moreover, in the sprawling, +misspelled welcome, tacked to the wall, there was even the heartening +information that "seegars is in the kityun tabl." The passengers and +crew of the _Fish Killer_ were soon warm and satisfied. They spent +a happy night--a night so changed, so cozy, so bountiful, that they +blessed old man Feather until their tongues were tired. And old man +Feather, himself, who kept watch on the Cocked Hat with a spy-glass, +took them off to Hulk's Harbour in the clear weather of the next day. + +"An' did you find the cigars, skipper?" he whispered, with a wide, +proud grin. + +"Us did." + +"An' was they good? Hist! now," the old fellow repeated, with a wink of +mystery, "_wasn't_ they good?" + +"Well," the skipper drawled, not ungraciously, you may be sure, "the +cook made bad weather of it. But he double-reefed hisself an' lived +through. 'Twas the finest an' the first cigar he ever seed." + +The old man chuckled delightedly. + + + + +CHAPTER XXIII + + _In Which the Clerk of the Trader Tax Yarns of a Madman + in the Cabin_ + + +THE trading-schooner _Tax_ of Ruddy Cove had come down from the +Labrador. She was riding at anchor in the home harbour, with her hold +full of salt fish and the goods in her cabin run sadly low. Billy +Topsail, safely back from Feather's Folly, and doomed by the wreck of +the _Fish Killer_ to spend the summer in the quieter pursuits of Ruddy +Cove, had gone aboard to greet the crew. There was hot tea on the +forecastle table, and the crew was yarning to a jolly, brown grinning +lot of Ruddy folk, who had come aboard. It was Cook, the clerk, a +merry, blue-eyed little man, who told the story of the madman in the +cabin. + +"We were lying in Shelter Harbour," said he, "waiting for a fair wind +to Point-o'-Bay. It was coming close to night when they saw him leaping +along shore and kicking a tin kettle as though 'twas a football. I was +in the cabin, putting the stock to rights after the day's trade. I +heard the hail and the skipper's answering, 'Ay ay! This is the trader +_Tax_ from Ruddy Cove.' Then the skipper sung out to know if I wanted a +customer. Customer? To be sure I wanted one! + +"'If he has a gallon of oil or a pound of fish,' said I, 'fetch him +aboard.' + +"'He looks queer,' said the skipper. + +"'Queer he may look,' said I, 'and queer he may be, but his fish will +be first cousins to the ones in the hold, and I'll barter for them.' + +"With that the skipper put off in the punt to fetch the customer; but +when he drew near shore he lay on his oars, something puzzled, I'm +thinking, for the customer was dancing a hornpipe on a flat rock at the +water's edge, by the first light of the moon. + +"'Have you got a fish t' trade?' said the skipper. + +"'Good-evenin', skipper, sir,' said the queer customer, after a last +kick and flourish. 'I've a quintal or two an' a cask o' oil that I'm +wantin' bad t' trade away.' + +"He was rational as you please; so the skipper was thrown off his +guard, took him aboard, and pulled out. + +"'You're quite a dancer,' said he. + +"'Hut!' said the man. 'That's nothin' at all. When the moon's full an' +high, sir, I dances over the waves; an' when they's a gale blowin' I +goes aloft t' the clouds an' shakes a foot up there.' + +"'Do you, now?' said the skipper, not knowing whether to take this in +joke or earnest. + +"'Believe _me_, sir,' said the man, with the gravest of faces, 'I'm a +wonderful dancer.' + +"I was on deck when they came aboard. It was then dusk. I noticed +nothing out of the ordinary in my customer's appearance. He was a +large, big-boned man, well supplied with fat and muscle, and capable, +as I thought at the moment, of enduring all the toil and hardship to +which the men of that coast are exposed. The skipper handed him over to +me without a word of warning, and went below to the forecastle, for the +wind was blowing cold and misty." + +"Oh, well," the skipper broke in from his place in a bunk, "how could I +tell that he was mad?" + +"Whatever, Skipper Job," the clerk resumed, with a twinkle in his eye, +"I took him into the cabin, and the crew and you were snug enough in +the forecastle, where no hail of mine could reach you. It was not +until then," he resumed, "when the light of the cabin lamp fell full +upon him, that I had a proper appreciation of my customer's size and +strength--not until then that I marked the deathly pallour of his face +and the strange light in his eyes. He was frowsy, dirty, dressed in +ragged moleskin cloth; and he had a habit of looking to right and left +and aloft--anywhere, it appeared, but straight in my face--so that I +caught no more than a red flash from his eyes from time to time. I felt +uneasy, without being able to account to myself for the feeling; so, +anxious to be well rid of him, I asked, abruptly, in what I could serve +him. + +"'I'm thinkin' you'll not be havin' the thing I wants,' said he. + +"That touched me on a tender spot. 'I'm thinking,' said I, 'that we've +a little of all that you ever thought of.' + +"'I don't think you has,' said he, 'but 'twould be best for you if you +had.' + +"There was a hidden meaning in that. Why should it be best for me? + +"'And what is it?' said I. + +"''Tis a spool o' silk thread,' said he, soberly, 't' bind the fairies +with--the wicked fairies that tells me t' do the things I don't want +t'. If you've any o' _that_, sir, I'll take all you got aboard, for I +wants it bad.' + +"'Come, now, my man,' said I sharply, 'stop your joking. I'm tired, and +in no humour for it. What is it you want?' + +"'I'm not jokin', sir,' said he. 'I wants a spool o' green silk thread +t' lash the wicked fairies t' the spruce trees.' + +"I could not doubt him longer; there was too much longing, too much +hopelessness, in his voice for that. He was demented; but there are +many men of that coast whom lonely toil has driven mad, but yet who +live their lives through to the natural end, peaceable folk and good +fishermen, and I thought that this poor fellow had as good a right to +trade with me as the sanest man in Shelter Harbour. + +"'We've no green silk thread, sir,' said I, 'that will securely lash +fairies to spruce trees. But if you want anything else, and have fish +to trade, I'll take them.' + +"'I wisht you had the thread,' said he. + +"'Why?' said I. + +"''Twould be best for you,' said he with a sigh. 'If I could tie the +wicked fairies up, I wouldn't have t'--have t'--do it. But,' he went +on, 'as you haven't any thread, I'll take some calico t' make a new +dress for my brother's little maid.' + +"A certain look of cunning, which overspread his face at that moment, +alarmed me. I thought I had better find out what the wicked fairies had +to do with me. + +"'Did you meet the fairies to-night?' said I. + +"'Ay,' said he. 'I met the crew o' wicked ones on my way through the +bush.' + +"'And what did they tell you?' said I. + +"He signed to me to be silent; then he closed the cabin door and came +close to the counter, behind which I stood, with no way of escape open. + +"'Has you got a loaded gun?' he whispered hoarsely. + +"His face was close to mine. In his eyes, which were now steady, two +live, red coals were glowing. I fell back from him, frightened; for +I now knew what work the wicked fairies had assigned to him for that +night. Poor fellow! Frightened though I was, I pitied him. I saw his +distress, and pitied him! He was fighting manfully against the impulse; +but it mastered him, at last, and I realized that my life was in grave +danger. I was penned in, you know, and--they call me 'little Cook'--I +was no match for him. + +"'No,' said I. 'I've no gun.' + +"'Has you got a knife?' said he. + +"'Sorry,' said I; 'but I'm sold out of knives.' + +"'Has you got a razor?' said he. + +"It was high time to mislead him. I saw an opportunity to escape. + +"'Is it razors you want?' I cried. 'Sure, I've some grand ones--big +ones, boy, sharp ones, bright ones. I keep them in the forecastle where +'tis dry. So I'll just run up to fetch the lot to show you.' + +"His eyes glistened when I spoke of the brightness and sharpness of +those razors. With a show of confidence, I jumped on the counter and +swung my legs over. But he pushed me back--so angrily, indeed, that I +feared to precipitate the encounter if I persisted. + +"'Don't trouble, sir,' said he. 'I'll find something that'll answer. +Ha!' said he, taking an axe from the rack and 'hefting' it. 'This will +do.' + +"'But I'm wanting to wash my hands, anyway,' said I. + +"''Twill make no difference in the end,' said he quietly. + +"I speak of it calmly now; but when I found myself alone in the cabin +with that poor madman--found myself behind the counter, with no +defensive weapon at hand, with my life in the care of my wits, which +are neither sharp nor ready--I was in no condition for calm thought. To +hail the skipper was out of the question; he would not hear me, and the +first shout would doubtless excite the big man in the moleskin clothes +beyond restraint. My hope of escape lay in distracting his attention +from the matter in hand until the skipper should come aft of his own +notion. But I made one effort in another direction. + +"'Did you say _green_ silk thread or _blue_?' said I. + +"'I said green, sir.' + +"'Did you, now?' I exclaimed. 'Sure, I thought you said blue. We've no +blue, but we've the green, and you'll be able to lash the fairies to +the spruce trees, after all.' + +"As a matter of fact, we had a few spools of silk thread, and one of +them was green--a bad stock, as I knew to my cost, for I had long been +trying to dispose of them. + +"''Tis too late,' said he. + +"'No, no!' said I. 'You'll surely not be letting the fairies drive you +like that. You can take the green thread and lash them all up on the +way home.' + +"'No,' he said doggedly; ''tis too late. What they told me to do I must +do before the clock strikes.' + +"'Strikes what?' said I. + +"'Twelve,' said he. + +"With what relief did I hear this! Twelve o'clock? It was now but +eight. The skipper would come aft long before that hour. + +"''Tis a long time to wait,' said I. 'I'll make up my bunk, and you may +lie down a bit and rest.' + +"'It lacks but twelve minutes of the hour,' said he. 'They's a clock +hangin' behind you, sir.' + +"He indicated a cheap American alarm clock. It was the last of a half +dozen I had kept hanging from the roof of the cabin. I had kept them +wound up, for the mere pleasure of hearing their busy ticking, but +had never set them--never troubled to keep them running to the right +time. When I looked up I was dismayed to find that the clock pointed to +twelve minutes to twelve o'clock! + +"''Tis not the right time,' I began. ''Tis far too----' + +"'Hist!' said he. 'Don't speak. You've but eleven minutes left.' + +"Thus we stood, the fisherman with his back to the door and the axe +in his hand, and myself behind the counter, while the cheap American +alarm clock ticked off the minutes of my life. Eleven--ten--nine! They +were fast flying. I could think of no plan to dissuade him--no ruse +to outwit him. Indeed, my mind was occupied more with putting the +blame on that lying clock than with anything else. I had determined, +of course, to make the best fight I could--to blow out the light at +the moment of attack, dive under the counter, catch my man by the +legs, overturn him and escape by the door or there fight it out. Nine +minutes--eight--seven! At that moment I caught a long hail from the +shore. + +"'Schooner ahoy! Ahoy!' + +"I do not think the fisherman heard it. It was too faint--too far off; +and he was too intent upon the thing he was to do. + +"'Six minutes, sir,' said he. + +"I wondered if Job had heard. The hail was repeated. Then I heard +Skipper Job answer from the deck. At that the fisherman started; but +his alarm passed in a moment. + +"'Ahoy!' shouted Skipper Job. + +"'Has you got a strange man aboard?' came from the shore. + +"'Yes, sir,' Job called. + +"'Watch him,' from the shore. 'He's mad.' + +"'Oh, he's all right,' Job called. 'He's harmless.' + +"Then silence. My hope of relief vanished. I should have to make the +fight, after all, I thought. + +"'Five minutes, sir,' said the madman. + +"Had Skipper Job gone below again? Or would he come aft? For two +minutes not a word was said. My customer and I were waiting for the +first stroke of twelve. Soon I heard voices forward; then the tramp +of feet coming aft over the deck--treading softly. They paused by the +house, and the whispering ceased. Was it a rescue, or was it not? I +could not tell. The men above seemed to have no concern with me. But, +indeed, they had. + +"'John, b'y,' a strange voice called, 'is you below?' + +"''Tis me brother Timothy,' my customer whispered. 'I must be goin' +home.' + +"'John, b'y, is you below?' + +"'Ay, Timothy!' + +"'Come up, b'y. I'm goin' ashore now, an' 'tis time you was in bed.' + +"My customer put up the axe, and, with a sign to me to keep silence, +went on deck, with me following. He jumped in the punt, as docile as a +child, gave us all good-night, and was rowed ashore. We did not see him +again; for the wind blew fresh from the nor'west in the morning, and by +night we were anchored at Point-o'-Bay. Whether or not the fairies had +commanded the poor fellow to kill me at twelve o'clock, I do not know. +He did not say so; but I think they had." + + + + +CHAPTER XXIV + + _In Which a Pirate's Cave grows Interesting, and Two + Young Members of the Ethnological and Antiquarian + Club of St. John's, Undertake an Adventure under the + Guidance of Billy Topsail_ + + +THERE landed in Ruddy Cove, that summer, two youngsters from St. +John's on a vacation--city schoolboys both: not fisher lads. They were +pleasant fellows, and were soon fast friends with Billy Topsail and the +lads of the place, by whom they were regarded with some awe, but still +with great friendliness. + +"Hello!" the visitors exclaimed, when they clapped eyes on Billy. +"Where you going?" + +"Fishin'." + +"Take us, won't you, please?" + +Billy Topsail grinned. + +"Won't you?" + +"I don't know," said Billy. "I 'low so." + +They went to the grounds; and the day was blue, and the sea was quiet, +and Billy Topsail and the schoolboys had a marvellously splendid time; +so they were all friends together from that out. + +Tom Call and Jack Wither were members of what they called, with no +little pride, "The Ethnological and Antiquarian Club of St. John's." +The object of this club of lads was, in the beginning, to preserve +relics of the exterminated Beothuk tribe; but to the little collections +of stone implements and flint-lock guns were soon added collections +of mineral specimens, of fossils, of stamps, of fish and shells and +sea-weeds, of insects, of old prints and documents--in short, of +everything to which an inveterate collector might attach a value. + +Wherever they went in the long vacation, whether to the coast or to +the interior, not one of them but kept an eye open for additions to +the club collections; and, though much of what they brought back had +to be rejected, it was not long before they had the gratification +of observing an occasional reference to "the collections of the +Ethnological and Antiquarian Club" in the city newspapers. + +All this accounts for the presence of Tom Call and Jack Wither in the +Little Tickle Basin, in the thick of the islands off Ruddy Cove, one +vacation day, and for their interest in a rusted iron mooring-ring, +which was there sunk in the rock. + +"And nobody knows who put it there?" Tom asked, curiously fingering the +old ring. + +"No," replied Billy Topsail, who had taken them over; "but they says +'twas the pirates put it there, long ago." + +"Pirates!" cried Tom. "Do they say that?" + +"'Twas me grandfather told me so." + +It may be that pirates harboured in the Little Tickle Basin in the days +when they made the Caribbean Sea a fearsome place to sail upon. When +the Newfoundland coast was remote, uninhabited, uncharted, no safer +hiding place could have been found than that quiet little basin, hidden +away among the thousand barren islands of the bay. If, as they say, +every pirate had his place of refuge, the iron ring is some evidence, +at least, that a buccaneer was accustomed to fly to the basin when +pursuit got too persistent and too hot for him. + +"Of course!" said Tom, when they were sailing back to Ruddy Cove. "How +else can you account for that ring? I bet you," he concluded, "that +dozens of pirates had dens on this coast." + +"Now, Tom," said Jack, "you know as well as I do that that's just a +little too----" + +"Well," he interrupted, "everybody knows that pirates used to come +here. You'll find it in the histories. It wouldn't surprise me to learn +that there is a cave around here." + +"There is," said Billy Topsail. + +"There!" cried Tom, his eyes shining. "I told you so!" + +"'Tis a wonderful curious place, too," Billy went on. "You has t' +crawl through a hole t' get inside. Sure, the hole is no bigger than a +scuttle. You could close it with a fair sized rock. But once you gets +through, the cave is as big as a room. 'Twould hold a score o' men very +comfortable." + +Tom gave Jack a meaning glance. Then he turned to Billy Topsail. + +"Can you take us there?" he asked. + +"I don't know as I could. I've only _heered tell_ they was a cave like +that." + +"And you've never been there?" + +"Not me." + +Tom's face fell--fell so suddenly and to an expression so woeful that +Jack laughed outright, though he sympathized with Tom's disappointment. + +"But I knows a man that _has_ been there," Billy continued. "He's the +man that found it. 'Tis like, now, that he's the only man that's ever +been inside." + +"Then the place isn't well known?" + +"So far as I can tell, nobody knows it but ol' Joe West." + +When they ran Billy's punt to old Joe West's stage, at Ruddy Cove, that +night, Joe was inside, splitting the day's catch of cod. They broached +the object of their visit without delay. Would he guide them to the +cave at Little Tickle Basin? But Joe shook his head. The squid were in +the harbour, and the fish were taking the bait in lively fashion. The +loss of a day's catch was "beyond thinkin' of." + +"Do you know the bearings?" Tom asked. + +"T' be sure. 'Tis very simple t' get near the spot; but 'tis wonderful +hard t' find the hole. 'Tis all overgrown. You might hunt for a year, +I'm thinkin', an' never find it. When you does find it, it takes a deal +o' nerve t' crawl in. 'Tis that dark an' damp! You keeps thinkin' all +the time, too, that something will fall over the hole an' shut you in. +If you crawls through," Joe concluded, impressively, "be sure one o' +you stays outside." + +"But we've no chart of the place," Tom complained. + +"If you've paper an' a bit o' pencil," said Skipper Joe, "I'll draw you +one." + +Here is what he drew: + +[Illustration] + +Skipper Joe, of course, carefully explained his drawing. "Does you see +where the arrow points?" said he. "Well, 'tis there. You gets the head +o' that little rock in line with the point, at high water, an' there +you are. The cliff is rough, an' covered with a growth o' spruce. The +hole is about half way up, openin' off a mossy ledge. You'll have t' +pry around a wonderful lot t' find it." + +"What's it like inside?" Tom asked, eagerly. + +"Well, they is a deal o' birch bark scattered around, an' a lot o' +broken rock. I saw that by the light of a match; but I was too scared +t' stay long, an' I haven't never been there since." + +Billy Topsail agreed to sail the sloop to Little Tickle Basin on the +next day. Then the boys walked home by the road, much excited. Indeed, +Tom, who was of an imaginative and enthusiastic turn, was fairly +transported. No flight of fancy was too high for him--no hope too wild. +The chart passed from his hand to Jack's and back again a hundred +times. The crude, strange drawing, with its significant arrow, touched +all the pirate tales with reality. + +"If it had been only a cave, without a rusted mooring-ring, it wouldn't +have been so much," said Tom. "But with the ring--_with_ the ring, my +boy--a narrow, hidden passage to a cave means a great deal more." + +Jack asked Tom what he was "driving at." + +"I think," said he calmly, "that there is buried treasure there." + +Jack scoffed. + +"Very well," said Tom; "but you must remember that these discoveries +come unexpectedly. They're _stumbled_ on. You can't expect to find a +sign-post near buried treasure." + +That night they lay awake for a long time. Tom and Jack were +bed-fellows at Ruddy Cove. Struck by a simple idea, Jack awoke his +friend. + +"Tom," said he, "I think we'll find something there." + +"Spanish gold or English?" Tom asked, sleepily. + +"It will be _something_," Jack replied. "Something we want." + + + + +CHAPTER XXV + + _In Which There is a Landslide at Little Tickle Basin and + Something of Great Interest and Peculiar Value is + Discovered in the Cave_ + + +NOON of the next day found the three boys at Little Tickle Basin, with +the punt moored to the mysterious ring. Many a vessel had floated in +that snug berth before, no doubt. But whose? And what flag did they +fly? When the tide was at the full, the boys set off across the basin +in the punt; and they were soon ashore, with the head of the little +rock in line with the point of land, as the chart directed. + +"Now for it!" cried Tom. + +And up the cliff he started, Jack following, with Billy Topsail, who +was quite as deeply stirred as they, bringing up the rear, a pick in +one hand and a shovel in the other. It was not hard climbing. The +declivity could hardly be called a cliff. Rather, it was a hill, rising +sharply from the water's edge--steep, strewn with broken rock, loose +turf and decaying stumps, and overgrown with moss and ill-nourished +shrubs. Jack was impressed with the instability of the whole mass. + +"If it weren't for the juts of naked rock," he thought, with some +alarm, "this stuff would all slip into the water, like snow from the +roof of a house." + +But he was far too deeply interested in the search to dwell upon such +speculation, however threateningly the imagination might present +the possibilities. They all kept to the perpendicular line, from +their landing place to the crest of the hill; and they searched +painstakingly, tearing aside the shrubs, peering under overhanging +rocks, prying into dark holes. It was all without reward. At last, Jack +came to the top of the hill. Tom was below him, following a narrow +ledge; and Billy Topsail, now wearied of the search, was sitting on a +boulder, lower down. + +"Hello, Tom!" Jack shouted. "What luck?" + +Jack caught hold of a shrub, and leaned outward, in an attempt to catch +sight of Tom. + +"Nothing yet," Tom answered. + +Then Jack's feet, which had been resting on an insecure footing of +loose stones, shot from under him. He clung to his shrub and held his +position, but in the effort he dislodged a small boulder, which went +crashing down, dislodging earth and the accumulations of broken rock in +its course. He had started a little avalanche; and the most he could do +was to cry a horrified warning and watch it go rolling down, growing +greater as it went. + +"Tom!" he called. "Oh, Tom!" + +This time there was no answer. Dead silence followed the frantic call +and the plunge of the avalanche into the water. What had become of Tom? +Billy Topsail, who had found shelter in the "lee" of the boulder upon +which he had been sitting, suggested, when Jack joined him, that Tom +had been swept into the water by the flood of stones and earth. Jack +scouted the suggestion. Had he not watched the course of that selfsame +flood? Tom had been on the ledge. He must still be there--unconscious, +probably, and unable to answer to the call of his name. + +"We'll look there first, at any rate," he determined. + +A great part of the avalanche had lodged on the ledge. Stones and moss +and new earth lay in slanting heaps in many places; but of Tom's body +there was no sign. + +"He've been swep' into the water, I fears," Billy declared. + +"Or buried on the ledge," said Jack. + +Jack called to his friend again. While they listened, straining their +ears for the remotest response, he had his eye fixed on a remnant of +the avalanche near by. To his unbounded astonishment, he perceived +evidences of some disturbance within the heap. The disturbance suddenly +developed into an upheaval. A foot and an ankle shot out. A moment +later Billy Topsail had that foot and its mate in his hands and was +hauling with small regard for the body behind. + +It was Tom. + +"I've found the cave!" he gasped, when they had set him on his feet, +profusely perspiring, flushed and exceedingly dirty. "But what's up? +How did I get shut in there? Part of the hill slipped away! I _thought_ +it was a landslide. I found the hole, and started to crawl in, to make +sure that it was the place before I said anything. Then I heard a +racket; and then the light was shut out. I thought I might as well go +on, though, and find out afterwards what had happened. So on I went. +And it's the cave, boy!" he cried. "When I made sure of that," he +went on, "I wanted to get out in a hurry. I was afraid to crawl into +that hole head foremost--afraid of being jammed. Of course, I knew +that something had fallen over the mouth of it; and I thought I could +kick the thing out of the way just as easily as I could push it, and +meantime have all the air there was. So out I came, feet first. Have +you got that pick and shovel, Billy? Let's clear this stuff away from +the hole and go in." + +"What's in there, Tom?" Jack asked. + +"You'll soon find out." + +They left Billy Topsail outside, as a precaution against entombment. +Tom went first with the lantern. When, looking along the passage, Jack +saw a flare of light, he followed. The passage was about six feet +long, and so narrow that he could not quite go upon hands and knees. +He squirmed through, with his heart in his mouth, and found himself, +at last, in a roomy chamber, apparently rough-hewn, wherein Tom was +dancing about like a wild Indian. + +"Pirate gold!" he shouted. "Pirate gold!" + +"Where is it?" Jack cried, believing, for the moment, that he had +discovered it in sacks. + +"Dig, boy!" said Tom. "It's underground." + +At any rate, a glance about, by the light of the lantern, discovered no +treasure. It was underground, if it were anywhere. So they set about +unearthing it without delay. But there was no earth--nothing but broken +rock. The shovel was of small use; they took turns with the pick, +labouring hard and excitedly, expecting, momentarily, to catch the +glitter of gold. Occasionally, the strength of both was needed to lift +some great, obstinate stone out of the way; but, for the most part, +while one wielded the pick, the other removed the loosened rock. + +"What in the world is this thing?" Tom asked. + +He had taken a round, brown object from the excavation. Suddenly he let +it drop, with a little cry of horror, and started to his feet. Jack +picked it up and held it close to the lantern. + +"Pirates!" whispered Tom, now utterly horrified. + +"Last night," said Jack, "I told you that we'd find _something_. We've +found it." + +"We've found a pirates' den," said Tom. + +"No," Jack replied, handing him the skull; "we've found a Beothuk +Indian burial cave. We've struck it rich for the Ethnological and +Antiquarian Club!" + +"Well," Tom admitted, ruefully, "that's _something_!" + +Struck it rich? Indeed, they had! The most valuable part of the +collection of Indian relics, now in the club's museum, came from that +cave. The excavation occupied three days; and at the end of it, when +they laid their treasures out at Ruddy Cove, they were thrown into a +transport of delight. In addition to the skeleton remains, which have +since served a highly useful purpose, they had found stone hatchets, +knives, spearheads, clubs, and various other implements of warfare and +the hunt; three clay masks, a curious clay figure in human form, and +three complete specimens of Indian pottery, with a number of fragments. + +The rusted iron mooring-ring has never been explained. + + + + +CHAPTER XXVI + + _In Which Billy Topsail Determines to go to the Ice + in the Spring of the Year and Young Archibald + Armstrong of St. John's is Permitted to Set Out + Upon an Adventure Which Promises to be Perilous but + Profitable_ + + +IN the winter when he was fifteen years old, Billy Topsail determined +to go to the ice with the great sealing fleet in the spring, if it +could be managed by hook or crook. His father had no objection to make. +The boy was old enough to look out for himself, he knew; and he was +sure that the experience would complete the process of making a man of +him. + +"Go, b'y," said he, "if you can." + +There was the difficulty. What sealing captain would take a lad of +fifteen when there were grown men to be shipped? Billy was at a loss. +But he determined, nevertheless, that he would go to the ice, and +selected Long Tom Harbour as a promising port to sail from, for it was +near by and well known. From Long Tom Harbour then, he would go seal +hunting in the spring of the year if it could be managed by a boy with +courage and no little ingenuity. + +"Oh, I'll go _somehow_!" said he. + + * * * * * + +It was twilight of a blustering February day. Sir Archibald Armstrong, +the great St. John's merchant, sat alone in his office, with his chair +drawn close to the low, broad window, which overlooked the wharves +and the ice-strewn harbour beyond; and while the fire roared and the +wind drove the snow against the panes, he lost himself in profound +meditation. He stared absently at the swarm of busy men--now almost +hidden in the dusk and storm--and at the lights of the sealing fleet, +which lay there fitting out for the spring voyage to the drift-ice of +the north; but no sound of the activity on deck or dock could disturb +the quiet of the little office where the fire blazed and crackled and +the snow fell softly against the window panes. + +"Beg pardon, sir," a clerk interrupted, putting his head in at the +door. "Cap'n Hand, sir." + +Captain Hand, of the sealing ship _Dictator_, was admitted. He was a +thick, stubby, hammer-fisted, fiery-faced old man, marked with the +mark of the sea. His eyebrows made one broad black band of wiry hair, +stretching from temple to temple, where they grew in the fashion of +two sharp little horns; and he had a habit of dropping them over his +little red eyes, as if in a passion--but nobody was deceived by that; +for, save in moments of righteous anger, the light of good humour +still shone in the little red eyes, however fiercely they flashed. The +rest of his face was beard--a wilderness of gray beard; it sprang from +somewhere below his shirt collar, and straggled in a tangled growth +over his cheek-bones and neck. + +"Report t' you, sir," said he, in a surprisingly gruff voice; and +at the same time he pulled the lobe of his right ear, which was his +invariable manner of salute. + +Sir Archibald and Captain Hand were in close consultation for half an +hour; during all of which time the burly captain's eyes were thickly +screened by his eyebrows. + +"Oh, I sees, sir--I sees," said he, rising, at the end of it. "Oh, ay! +Of course, sir--of course!" + +"And you'll take good care?" Sir Archibald began, almost tenderly. + +"Oh, ay!" heartily. "I ain't no nurse, as I tells you fair; but you +needn't worry about _him_, sir." + +"His mother will be anxious. She'll hold you responsible, captain." + +Captain Hand violently pulled the lobe of his right ear, and turned to +go. At the door he halted. "Tim Tuttle o' Raggles Island has turned up +again, sir," he said, "an' wants t' be shipped." + +"Tuttle?" muttered Sir Archibald. "He's the man who led the mutiny on +the _Never Say Die_. Well, as you will, captain." + +"Oh, I'll ship him!" said the captain, grimly; and with a last pull at +his ear he disappeared. + +On the heels of the captain's departure came Archie. He was Sir +Archibald's son; there was no doubt about that: a fine, hardy +lad--robust, as every young Newfoundlander should be; straight, agile, +alert, with head carried high; merry, quick-minded, ready-tongued, +fearless in wind and high sea. His hair was tawny, his eyes blue and +wide and clear, his face broad and good humoured. All this appeared as +he pulled off his cap, threw back the flaps of his fur-lined overcoat, +picked a stray thread from his knickerbockers, and, at last, eagerly +approached his father. + +"You little dandy!" laughed his father. + +Archie laughed, too--and flushed. He knew that his father liked to poke +fun at him because the cut of his coat, the knot in his cravat, the +polish on his boots, were matters of such deep concern to the boy. + +"Oh, come now, father!" he protested. "Tell me whether I'm to go or +not." + +For reply, Sir Archibald gravely led his son to the window. It was his +purpose to impress the boy with the wealth and power (and, therefore, +with the responsibilities) of the firm of Armstrong and Son. + +"Come," said he; "let us watch them fitting out the fleet." + +The wealth of the firm was vast, the power great. Directly or +indirectly, Sir Archibald's business interests touched every port +in Newfoundland, every cove of the Labrador, the markets of Spain +and Portugal, of the West Indies and South American Republics. His +fishing-schooners went south to the Banks and north to the gray, cold +seas off Cape Chidley; the whalers gave chase in the waters of the +Gulf and of the Straits; the traders ran from port to port of all +that rugged coast; the barques carried cod and salmon and oil to all +the markets of the world. And when the ice came drifting down in the +spring, the sealers scattered themselves over the waters of the North +Atlantic. + +Archie looked into the dusk without, where lay the ships and wharves +and warehouses that told the story. + +"They are mine," said Sir Archibald, gravely, looking deep into his +son's wide-opened eyes. "Some day----" + +Archie was alarmed. What did it all mean? Why was his father so grave? +Why had he boasted of his wealth? + +"They will be yours," Sir Archibald concluded. After a pause, he +continued: "The firm has had an honourable career through three +generations of our family. My father gave it to me with a spotless +reputation. More than that, with the business he gave me the perfect +faith of every man, woman and child of the outports. The firm has +dealt with its fishermen and sealers as man with man; it has never +wronged, or oppressed, or despised them. You are now fifteen years +old. In September, you are going to an English public school, and +thence to an English university. You will meet with new ideals. The +warehouses and ships, the fish and fat, will not mean so much to you. +You will forget. It may be, even--for you are something of a dandy, you +know--that you will be ashamed to acknowledge that your father is a +dealer in fish and seal-oil; that----" + +Archie drew breath to speak. + +"But I want you _to remember_," Sir Archibald went on, lifting his +hand. "I want you to know a man when you meet one, whatever the clothes +he wears. The men upon whom the fortunes of this firm are founded are +true men. They are strong, and brave, and true. Their work is toilsome +and perilous, and their lives are not unused to deprivation; but they +are cheerful, and independent, and fearless, through it all--stout +hearts, every one of them! They deserve respectful and generous +treatment at the hands of their employers. For that reason I want +you to know them more intimately--to know them as shipmates know one +another--that you may be in sympathy with them. I am confident that you +will respect them, because I know that you love all manly qualities. +And so, for your good, and for their good, and for the good of the +firm, I have decided that you may----" + +"That I may go?" Archie cried, eagerly. + +"With Captain Hand, of the _Dictator_, which puts out from Long Tom +Harbour at midnight of March tenth." + + + + +CHAPTER XXVII + + _While Billy Topsail is About His Own Business Archie + Armstrong Stands on the Bridge of the Dictator and + Captain Hand Orders "Full Speed Ahead!" on the Stroke + of Twelve._ + + +AND so it came to pass that, at near midnight of the tenth of March, +Archie Armstrong, warmly clad in furs, and fairly on fire with +excitement, was aboard the staunch old sealer, at Long Tom, half way +up the east coast. It was blowing half a gale from the open sea, +which lay, hidden by the night, just beyond the harbour rocks. The +wind was stinging cold, as though it had swept over immense areas of +ice, dragging the sluggish fields after it. It howled aloft, rattled +over the decks, and flung the smoke from the funnel into the darkness +inland. Archie breasted it with the captain and the mate on the bridge; +and he was impatient as they to be off from the sheltered water, fairly +started in the race for the north, though a great gale was to be +weathered. + +"Good-bye, Skipper John," he had said to John Roth, with whom he had +spent the three days of waiting in this small outport. "I'll send you +two white-coats (young seals) for Aunt Mary's sitting room, when I get +back." + +"I be past me labour, b'y," replied John, who was, indeed, now beyond +all part in the great spring harvest, "but I'll give you the toast o' +the old days. 'Red decks, an' many o' them!'" + +"Red decks," cried Archie, quoting the old proverb, "make happy homes." + +"'Tis that," said old John, striking the ground with his staff. "An' I +wish I was goin' along with you, b'y. There's no sealin' skipper like +Cap'n Hand." + +The ship was now hanging off shore, with steam up and the anchor snugly +stowed. Not before the stroke of twelve of that night was it permitted +by the law to clear from Long Tom. Fair play was thus assured to all, +and the young seals were protected from an untimely attack. It was a +race from all the outports to the ice, with the promise of cargoes of +fat to stiffen courage and put a will for work in the hearts of men: +for a good catch, in its deeper meaning, is like a bounteous harvest; +and what it brings to the wives and little folk in all the cottages of +that cruel coast is worth the hardship and peril. + +"What's the time, Mr. Ackell?" said the captain to the mate, +impatiently. + +"Lacks forty-three minutes o' the hour, sir," was the reply. + +"Huh!" growled the captain. "'Tis wonderful long in passin'." + +"The whole harbour must be down to see the start," Archie observed +looking to the shore. + +"More nor that, b'y," said the captain. "I've got a Green Bay crew. +Most two hundred men o' them, an' every last one o' them a mighty man. +They's folk here from all the harbours o' the bay t' see us off. Hark +t' the guns they're firin'!" + +All the folk left in Long Tom--the women and children and old men--were +at the water-side; with additions from Morton's Harbour, Burnt Bay, +Exploits and Fortune Harbour. Sailing day for the sealers! It was the +great event of the year. Torches flared on the flakes and at the stages +all around the harbour. The cottages were all illuminated with tallow +candles. Guns were discharged in salute. "God speed!" was shouted from +shore to ship; and you may be sure that the crew was not slow to return +the good wishes. Archie marked one man in particular--a tall, lean +fellow, who was clinging to the main shrouds, and shouting boisterously. + +"Well, we can't lose Tuttle," said the mate, with a grin, indicating +the man in the shrouds. + +The captain frowned; and Archie wondered why. But he thought no more +of the matter at the moment--nor, indeed, until he met Tuttle face to +face--for the wind was now blowing high; and that was enough to think +of. + +"Let it blow," said bluff Captain Hand. "'Tis not the _wind_ I cares +about, b'y. 'Tis the ice. I reckon there's a field o' drift ice +offshore. This nor'east gale will jam the harbour in an hour, an' I +don't want t' be trapped here What's the time, now, Mr. Ackell?" + +"Twenty-seven minutes yet, sir." + +"Take her up off Skull Head. That's within the law." + +The drift ice was coming in fast. There was a small field forming about +the steamer, and growing continuously. Out to sea, the night-light now +revealed a floe advancing with the wind, threatening to seal tight the +narrow harbour entrance. + +"If we have t' cut our way out," muttered the captain, "we'll cut as +little as we can. Mr. Girth!" he roared to the second mate, "get the +bombs out. An' pick a crew that knows how t' use 'em." + +The _Dictator_ moved forward through the gathering ice towards Skull +Head; and the three other steamers, whose owners had chosen to make the +start from Long Tom, followed slyly on her heels, evidently hoping to +get to sea in her wake, for she was larger than they. When her engines +were stopped off the Head, it lacked twelve minutes of sailing time. +An unbroken field of ice lay beyond the harbour entrance, momentarily +jammed there. Would the ship be locked in? + +"Can't we run for it, sir?" asked the mate. "'Tis but seven minutes too +soon." + +"No," said the captain. "We'll lie here t' midnight t' the second. Then +we'll ram that floe, if we have t'. Hear me?" he burst out, such was +the tension upon patience. "We'll ram it! We'll ram it!" + +It appeared that they _would_ have to. Archie could hear the ice +crunching as the floe pressed in upon the jam. Pans were lifted out of +the water, and, under the mighty force of the mass behind, were heaped +up between the rocks on either side of the narrows. The barrier seemed +even now to be impassable; and it had yet seven minutes to gather +strength. If it should prove too great to be broken, the fleet might +be locked in for a week; and with every hour of delay the size of the +prospective catch would dwindle. The captains of the nearer vessels +were madly shouting to the old skipper of the _Dictator_ to strike +before it was too late; but he gave them no heed whatever. He stood +with his watch in his hand, waiting for the moment of midnight. + +"We're caught!" cried the mate. + +The captain said nothing. He was watching the jam--hoping that it would +break of its own weight. + +"Three minutes, sir," said the mate. + +The captain glanced at the watch in his hand. "Two an' a half," he +muttered, a moment later. + +A pause. + +"Midnight, sir!" cried the mate. + +"Go ahead!" + +Archie heard the tinkle of the bell in the engineer's room below: then +the answering signal on the bridge. The crew raised a cheer; the mate +pulled the whistle rope; there was a muffled hurrah from the shore. + +"Half speed! Port a little!" + +The steamer gathered headway. She was now making for the harbour +entrance on a straight course. + +"Full speed!" + +Then the _Dictator_ charged the barrier. + + + + +CHAPTER XXVIII + + _In Which Archie Armstrong falls in with Bill o' Burnt + Bay and Billy Topsail of Ruddy Cove and Makes a + Speech_ + + +THERE is no telling what would have happened had the _Dictator_ struck +the jam of ice in the narrows of Long Tom Harbour. Captain Hand was not +the man to lose half a voyage because there was a risk to be taken; had +he been used to counting the risk, he would not have been in command +of the finest ship in Armstrong and Son's fine fleet. Rather than be +locked in the harbour, he had launched his vessel at the barrier, +quietly confident that she would acquit herself well. But, as he had +foreseen, the jam broke of its own weight before the steamer struck. Of +a sudden, it cracked, and gave way; the key blocks had broken. It then +remained only to breast the pack, which was not at all an impossible +undertaking for the stout _Dictator_. + +With her rivals following close, she struck the floe, broke a way +through, and pushed on, with a great noise, but slowly, surely; and she +was soon in the open sea. The course was then shaped northeast, for it +appeared that open water lay in that direction. The floe retarded the +ship's progress, but could not stop it; the ice pans crashed against +her prow and scraped her sides, but she was staunch enough to withstand +every shock; and so, gaining on the rest of the fleet, she crept out to +sea, in the teeth of the rising gale. + +At two o'clock in the morning, Archie Armstrong was still on the bridge +with the captain and mate. The lights of the fleet were lost in the +night behind. The _Dictator_ had laboured through the first field of +ice into open water. The sea was dotted with great, white "pans," +widely scattered; and, as the captain had feared, there were signs of +bergs in the darkness roundabout. The waves were rising, spume crested, +on every hand; at intervals, they broke over the bows, port and +starboard, with frightful violence. Gusts of wind whirled the spray to +the bridge, where it soon sheathed men and superstructure in ice. + +"Send a lookout aloft, Mr. Ackell," said the captain, after he had long +and anxiously peered straight ahead. + +The thud of ice, as the seas hurled it against the ship's prows, the +hiss and crash of the waves, the screaming of the gale, drowned the +captain's order. + +"Pass the word for Bill o' Burnt Bay!" he roared. + +A short, brawny man, of middle age, who had not missed a voyage to the +ice in twenty years, soon appeared in response to the call, which had +gone from mouth to mouth through the ship. Archie was inclined to smile +when he observed Bill's unkempt, sandy moustache, which was curiously +given an upward twist at one side, and a downward twist at the other. +Nevertheless, he was strongly attracted to him; for he looked like a +man who could be trusted to the limit of his courage and strength. + +"Take a glass t' the nest, b'y, an' look sharp for bergs," the captain +ordered. "Don't stay up there. Come back an' report t' me here." + +The man went off with a brisk, "Ay, ay, sir!" It was his duty to +clamber to the crow's-nest--a cask lashed to the topmast just below the +masthead--and to sweep the sea for signs of bergs. + +"'Tis more than I bargained for, Mr. Ackell," the captain went on, to +the mate, in an anxious undertone, which, however, Archie managed to +catch; and it may be added that the lad's heart jumped into his throat, +and had a hard time getting back into place again. + +"Dirty weather, sir!" the mate agreed. "I'm thinkin' we're close to +some heavy ice." + +"Well," said the captain, after a pause, "keep her head as she points +now. I'll have a look 'tween decks." + +Archie was tempted to ask the captain "if there was any danger." The +foolish question was fairly on the tip of his tongue; but his better +sense came to his rescue in time. Danger? Of course, there was! There +was always danger. He had surely not come on a sealing voyage expecting +none! But catastrophe was not yet inevitable. At any rate, it was the +captain's duty to sail the ship. He was responsible to the owners, and +to the families of the crew; the part of the passenger was but bravely +to meet the fortune that came. So, completely regaining his courage, +Archie followed the captain below. + +'Tween decks the stout hearts were rollicking still. The working crew +had duty to do, every man of them; but the two hundred hunters, who had +been taken along to wield gaff and club, were sprawled in every place, +singing, laughing, yarning, scuffling, for all the world like a pack +of boys: making light of discomfort, and thinking not at all of danger, +for the elation of departure still possessed them. Had any misgiving +still remained with Archie, the sight of this jolly, careless crowd +of hunters would have quieted it. _They_ were not alarmed. Then, why +should he be? Doubtless, it was responsibility that made the captain +anxious. + +In the improvised cabin aft, Ebenezer Bowsprit, of Exploits, was +roaring the "Luck o' the Northern Light," a famous old sealing song, +which, no doubt, his grandfather had sung to shipmates upon similar +occasions long ago. Rough, frank faces, broadly smiling, were turned +to him; and when it came time for the chorus, willing voices and +mighty lungs swelled it to a volume that put the very gale to shame. +The ship was pitching violently--with a nauseating roll occasionally +thrown in--and the cabin was crowded and hot and filled with clouds of +tobacco smoke; but neither pitch, nor roll, nor heat, nor smoke, could +interfere with the jollity of the occasion. + +"All right here," the captain growled, grinning in his great beard. + +"Speech, Sir Archie!" shouted one of the men. + +Before Archie could escape--and amid great laughter and uproar and +louder calls for a speech--he was caught by the arm, jerked off his +feet, and hoisted on the table, where he bumped his head, and, by an +especially violent roll of the vessel, was almost thrown headlong into +the arms of the grinning crowd around him. + +"Speech, speech!" they roared. + +Archie would have declined with some heat had he not caught sight of +the face of Tim Tuttle--a tawny, lean, long man, apparently as strong +as a wire rope. There was a steely twinkle in his eye, and a sneering, +utterly contemptuous smile upon his thin lips. Archie did not know that +this was Tuttle's habitual expression. He felt that the man expected a +rather amusing failure on the part of Sir Archibald Armstrong's son; +and that stimulated him to take the situation seriously. Unconsciously +calling his good breeding to his aid, he pulled off his cap, smoothed +his hair, touched his cravat, and-- + +"Ahem!" he began; as he had heard the governor of the colony do a dozen +times, and as now, to his surprise, he found most inspiring. + +"Hear, hear!" burst rapturously from old Ebenezer Bowsprit. + +[Illustration: HE WAS NEAR THE END OF THE SIXTEENTH VERSE.] + +Ebenezer was in a condition of high delight and expectation. Admiration +shone in his eyes, surprise was depicted by his wide opened mouth, +bewonderment by his strained attention. The sight of his face was too +much for Archie. + +"Oh, what Tommy-rot!" he laughed. "Here, let me go! I can't (hold me +up, or I'll fall) make a speech. ("Hear, hear!" from the awe-stricken +Ebenezer.) All I got to say is that I'm (_please_ get a better hold on +my legs, or I'll be pitched off) mighty glad to be here. I'm having the +best time of my life, and I expect to have a better one when we strike +the seals. (Loud and prolonged cheering.) I hope----" + +But, in the excitement following his last remark, the speaker's support +was withdrawn, and a pitch of the ship threw him off the table. He was +caught, set on his feet, and clapped on the back. Then he managed to +escape with the captain, followed by loud cries of "More! More!" to +which he felt justified in paying no attention. + +"You're your father's son," laughed the captain, as they made their way +up the deck. "Sure, your father never in his life let slip a chance +t' make a speech." + +In the forecastle they had a lad on the table under the lantern--a +tow-headed, blue-eyed, muscular boy, of Archie's age, or less. He had +on goatskin boots, a jacket of homespun, and a flaring red scarf. The +men were quiet; for the boy was piping, in a clear, quavering treble, +the "Song o' the Anchor an' Chain," a Ruddy Cove saga, which goes to +the air of a plaintive West Country ballad of the seventeenth century, +with the refrain, + + "Sure, the chain 'e parted, + An' the schooner drove ashoare, + An' the wives o' the 'ands + Never saw un any moare. + No moare! + Never saw un any mo-o-o-are!" + +He was near the end of the sixteenth verse, and the men were drawing +breath for the chorus, when the captain appeared in the door, wrath in +his eyes. + +"What's this?" roared he. + +There was no answer. The lad turned to face the captain, in part +deferentially, in part humorously, altogether fearlessly. + + + + +CHAPTER XXIX + + _Billy Topsail is Shipped Upon Conditions, and the + Dictator, in a Rising Gale, is Caught in a Field of + Drift Ice, with a Growler to Leeward_ + + +"WHERE'D you come aboard, b'y?" Captain Hand demanded. + +"Long Tom, sir." + +"Who shipped you?" + +"I stowed away in a bunker, sir." + +"You're from Ruddy Cove?" said the captain. + +"Yes, sir. Me name's Billy, an' me father's a Labrador fisherman. Sure, +I've sailed t' the French Shore, sir, an' I'm a handy lad t' work, sir." + +"Billy what?" + +"Topsail, sir." + +The captain raised his eyebrows; then dropped them, and stared at +the boy. He had been before the mast with old Tom Topsail on a South +American barque in years long gone. + +"You'll work hard, b'y," said he, severely, for he had been bothered +with stowaways for thirty years, "an' I'll ship you regular, if you do +your duty. If you don't," and here the captain frowned tremendously, +"I'll have you thrashed at the post at Long Tom, an' you'll have no +share with the crew in the cargo." + +"Ay, sir," said Billy, gladly. "Sure, I'll stand by it, sir." + +When the captain turned his back, out came the belated chorus, with +young Billy Topsail leading: + + "Sure, the chain 'e parted, + An' the schooner drove ashoare, + An' the wives o' the 'ands + Never saw un any moare. + No moare! + Never saw un any mo-o-o-are!" + +"If he's like his dad," the captain chuckled to Archie, as they mounted +to the deck, "his name will be on the ship's books before the v'y'ge is +over, sure enough." + +It appeared from the bridge that the gale was venting the utmost of its +force. The wind had veered a point or two to the north, and was driving +out of the darkness a vast field of broken ice. This, close packed and +grinding, was bearing down swiftly. It threatened to block the ship's +course--if not to surround her, take hold of her, and sweep her away. +In the northeast, dead over the bows, there loomed a great white mass, +a berg, grandly towering, with its peaks hidden in black, scudding +clouds. Beyond, and on either side, patches of white, vanishing and +reappearing, disclosed the whereabouts of other bergs. + +"I was thinkin' about slowin' down," said the mate, when the captain +had scanned the prospect ahead. + +With that, some part of Archie's alarm returned. It continued with him, +while the captain moved the lever of the signal box until the indicator +marked half speed, while the ship lost way, and the engines throbbed, +as though alive and breathing hard. + +"Report, sir!" + +This was Bill o' Burnt Bay, down from the crow's-nest, with his beard +frozen to his jacket and icicles hanging from his shaggy eyebrows. + +"Well?" + +"They's a big field o' ice bearin' down with the wind. 'Tis heavy, +an' comin' fast, an' 'tis stretchin' as far as I can see. They's five +good-sized bergs ahead, sir, with pan ice all about them. An'----" + +"Growlers?" sharply. + +"An' they's a big growler off the port bow. 'Twill soon be dead t' +leeward, if we keeps this course." + +Bill o' Burnt Bay lumbered down the ladder and made for the forecastle +to thaw out. Meantime, the captain devoted himself to giving the +growler a wide berth; for a growler is a berg which trembles on the +verge of toppling over, and he had no wish to be caught between it and +the advancing floe. He had once lost a schooner that way; the adventure +was one of his most vivid recollections. + +"We'll have t' get out o' this, Mr. Ackell," he said, "or we may get +badly nipped. We'll tie up t' the first steady berg we come to. Here, +b'y," sharply, to Archie, "you'll not go t' bed for a while. Keep near +me--but keep out o' the way." + +"Ay, ay, sir!" + +"Turn out all hands!" + +The cry of "All hands on deck!" was passed fore and aft. It ran through +the ship like an alarm. The men trooped from below, wondering what had +occasioned it. Once on deck, a swift glance into the driving night +apprised these old sealers of the situation. They placed the ice hooks +and tackle in handy places; for the work in hand was plain enough. + +The ship was swinging wide of the growler, against which the wind beat +with mighty force. A vast surface was exposed to the gale; and upon +every square foot a varying pressure was exerted. As the vessel drew +nearer, Archie could see the iceberg yield and sway. It was evident +that its submerged parts had been melted and worn until the equilibrium +of the whole was nearly overset. A sudden, furious gust might turn the +scale; and in that event a near-by vessel would surely be overwhelmed. + +Captain Hand kept a watchful eye on the ice pack, which had now come +within a hundred fathoms, and was hurrying upon the advancing ship. +The vessel was between the floe and the growler: a situation not to +be escaped, as the captain had foreseen. The danger was clear: if the +rush of the floe should be too great for the steamer to withstand, she +would be swept, broadside on, against the berg, which, being of greater +weight and depth, moved sluggishly. Stout as she was, she could not +survive the collision. + +The captain turned her bow to the pack; then he signalled full speed +ahead. There was a moment of waiting. + +"Grab the rail, b'y," said the captain. + +"Ay, ay, sir!" + +The floe divided before the ship; the shock was hardly perceptible. For +a moment, where, at the edge, the ice was loose, she maintained her +speed. But the floe thickened. The fragments were packed tight. It was +as though the face of the sea were covered with a solid sheet of ice, +lying ahead as far as sight carried into the night. The ship laboured. +Her speed diminished, gradually, but perceptibly--vividly so! Her +progress was soon at the rate of half speed. In a moment it was even +slower than that. Would it stop altogether? + +Archie was on the port side of the bridge. The captain walked over to +him and slapped him heartily on the back. + +"Well, b'y," he cried, "how do you like the sealin' v'y'ge?" + +That was a clever thought of the captain! Here was a man in desperate +case who could await the issue in light patience. The boy took heart at +the thought of it; and he needed that encouragement. + +"I knew what it was when I started," he replied, with a gulp. + +"Will she make it, think you?" + +Another clever ruse of this great heart! He wanted the boy to have a +part in the action. Archie felt the blood stirring in his veins once +again. + +"She's pretty near steady, sir, I think," he replied, after a pause. + +The two leaned over the rail and looked intently at the ice sweeping +past. + +"Are we losing, sir?" asked the boy. + +"I think we're holdin' our own," said the captain, elatedly. + +The boy turned to the great growler, now vague of outline in the dark. +The ice floe had swept over the limit of vision. He wondered if it +had struck the base of the berg. Then all at once the heap of cloudy +white swayed forth and back before his eyes. For a moment it was like +a gigantic curtain waving in the wind. It vanished of a sudden. A +mountain of broken water shot up in its place--as high as its topmost +pinnacle had been; and, following close upon its fall, another berg, +with a worn outline, reared itself, dripping streams of water. + +Thus far there had been no sound; but the sound beat its way against +the wind, at last, and it was a thunderous noise--"like the growlin' of +a million dogs," the captain said afterwards. The growler had capsized. + +"Look!" the boy cried, overcome. + +"Turned turtle, ain't she?" remarked the skipper, calmly. + +"The pack might have carried us near it!" + +"Oh," said the captain, lightly, "but it didn't. She's a good ship, the +_Dictator_. What's more," he added, "she's makin' her way right through +the pack." + +Another berg had taken form over the port quarter. The captain shaped +a course for it, eyeing it carefully as he drew near. It was low--not +higher than the ship's spars--and broad, with the impression of +stability strong upon it. + +"See that berg, b'y?" said the captain. "Well," decisively, "we'll lie +in the lee o' that in half an hour. You see, b'y," he went on, "the +wind makes small bother for a solid berg. It whips the pan ice along, +easy enough, but the bergs float their own way, quiet as you please. In +the lee of every big fellow like that, there's open water. We'll lie +there, tied up, till mornin'." + +In half an hour, the ship broke from the ice into the lee of the berg. +The floe raced past under the force of the gale, which left the lee air +and water untouched by its violence. Skillful seamanship brought the +vessel broadside to the ice. A wild commotion ensued: orders roared +from the bridge, signal bells, the shouts of the line men, the hiss of +steam, and the churning of the screw. Archie saw young Billy Topsail +scramble to the ice like a cat, with the first line in his hand: then +Bill o' Burnt Bay and half a dozen others, with axes and hooks. + +In twenty minutes the engines were at rest, the ship was lying like a +log in a mill pond, the watch paced the deck in solitude, and Archibald +Armstrong was asleep in his berth in the captain's cabin--dreaming that +the mate was wrong and the captain right: that the gale had abated in +the night, and the morning had broken sunny. + + + + +CHAPTER XXX + + _In Which Archie Armstrong and Billy Topsail Have an + Exciting Encounter with a Big Dog Hood, and, at the + Sound of Alarm, Leave the Issue in Doubt, While the + Ice Goes Abroad and the Enemy Goes Swimming_ + + +HAIR seals, which come out of the north with the ice in the early +spring, and drift in great herds past the rugged Newfoundland coast, +returning in April, have no close, soft fur next the skin, such as the +South Sea and Alaskan seals have. Hence, they are valued only for their +blubber, which is ground and steamed into oil, and for their skin, +which is turned into leather. They are of two kinds, the harp which is +doubtless indigenous to the great inland sea and the waters above, and +the hood, which inhabits the harsher regions of the farther north and +east. The harp is timid, gentle, gregarious, and takes in packs to the +flat, newly frozen, landward pans; the hood is fierce, quarrelsome and +solitary, grimly riding the rough glacier ice at the edge of the open +sea. + +Thus the _Dictator_ lay through the night with hood ice all about the +sheltering berg. + +"Hi, b'y! Get yarry (wide awake)!" cried the captain, in the morning. + +Archie Armstrong was "yarry" on the instant, and he rolled out of his +berth in hot haste, not at all sure that it was not time to leave a +sinking ship in the boats. The hairy face of the old sealer, a broad, +kindly grin upon it, peered at him from the door. + +"Morning, skipper!" + +"Mornin' t' you, sir. An' a fine mornin' 'tis," said the captain. "Sure +a finer I never saw." + +"What's become of the gale?" + +"The gale's miles t' the sou'east--an' out o' sight o' these latitudes. +We're packed in the lee o' the berg, an' fast till the wind changes. +There's a family o' hoods, quarter mile t' starboard. Up, now, b'y! an' +you'll go after them with a crew after breakfast." + +When Archie reached the deck, the air was limpid, frosty and still. +There was a blue sky overhead, stretching from horizon to horizon. A +waste of ice lay all about--rough, close-packed, glistening in the +sun. With the falling away of the wind the floe had lost its headway, +and had crept softly in upon the open water. The ship was held in the +grip of the pack, and must perforce remain for a time in the shadow of +the berg, where shelter from the gale of the night had been sought. +Save for the watch of that hour, the men were below, at breakfast. The +"great white silence" possessed the sea. For the boy, this silence, +vast and heavy, and the immeasurable area of broken ice, with its +pent-up, treacherous might, was as awe-impelling as the gale and the +night. + +"What d'ye think, Mr. Ackell?" said the captain to the mate, when the +two came up. + +Ackell looked to the northeast. "We'll have wind by noon," he replied. + +"'Tis what I think," the captain agreed. "Archie, b'y, you'll have a +couple of hours, afore the ice goes abroad. Bowsprit 'll take the crew, +an' you'll do what he tells you." + +Ebenezer Bowsprit, with half a dozen cronies of his own choosing, led +the way over the side, in high good humour. In the group on the deck +stood Billy Topsail. He eyed Archie with frank envy as the lad prepared +to descend to the ice; for to participate in the first hunt, generally +regarded as pure sport, was a thing greatly to be desired. He was +perceived by Archie, who was at once taken with a wish for company of +his own age. + +"Captain," the boy whispered, "let the other kid come along, won't you?" + +"Topsail," the captain ordered, "get a gaff, an' cut along with the +rest." + +In five minutes, the boys had broken the ice of diffidence, and were +chatting like sociable magpies, as they crawled, jumped, climbed, over +the uneven pack. They were Newfoundlanders both: the same in strength, +feeling, spirit, and, indeed, experience. The one was of the remote +outports, where children are reared to toil and peril, which, with +hunger, is their heritage, and must ever be; the other was of the city, +son of the well-to-do, who, following sport for sport's sake, had made +the same ventures and become used to the same toil and peril. + +"'Tis barb'rous hard walkin'," said Billy. + +"Sure," replied the other. "And they're getting away ahead of us." + +Ebenezer Bowsprit and his fellows, with the lust of the chase strong +upon them, were making great strides towards three black objects some +hundred yards away. It was a race; for it is a tradition that he +who strikes the first blow of the voyage will have "luck" the season +through. The boys were hopelessly behind, and they stopped to look +about them. It was then that Billy Topsail spied a patch of open water, +to the left, half hidden by the surrounding ice. It was a triangular +hole in the floe, formed by three heavy blocks, which had withstood the +pressure of the pack. + +"Look!" he cried. + +A head, small and alert, raised upon a thick, supple neck, appeared. A +moment later, a second head popped out of the water. They were hoods. +The young one, the pup, must lie near. The boys stood stock still until +the seals had clambered to the pack. Then they advanced swiftly. Billy +Topsail was armed with a gaff, which is a pole shod with iron at one +end and having a hook at the other; and Archie was provided with a +sealing club. They came upon the dog hood before he could escape to the +water. Perceiving this, and only on this account, he turned, snarling, +to give fight. + +"I'll take him!" cried Billy. + +The hood was as big as an ox--a massive, flabby, vicious beast. He +was furiously aroused, and he would now fight to the death, with no +thought of retreat. He raised himself on his flippers and reared his +head to the length of his long neck, as the boy, stepping cautiously, +gaff poised, drew near. + +[Illustration: THEN HE ADVANCED UPON THE BOY.] + +"Get behind him," Billy shouted to Archie. + +Billy advanced fearlessly, steadily, never for a moment taking his eyes +from the hood's head. Upon that head, from the nose to the back of the +neck, the tough, bladder-like "hood" was now inflated. It was a perfect +protection; the boy might strike blow after blow without effect. The +stroke must be thrust at the throat; and it must be a stroke swiftly, +cunningly, strongly delivered. A furious hood, excited past fear, is a +match for three men. The odds were against the lad. He had been carried +away by his own daring. + +But Billy made the thrust, and the seal received the point of the gaff +on his hood, as upon a shield: then advanced on his flippers, by jerky +jumps, snapping viciously. Archie cried out. But Billy had skipped +out of harm's way, and had faced about, laughing. He returned to the +attack, undismayed, though the seal reared to meet him, with bared +teeth. + +"Strike!" screamed Archie. + +Teeth and flippers were to be feared, and Billy had drawn nearly within +reach of both. He paused, waiting his opportunity. Archie could not +contain his excitement. + +"Strike!" he cried again. + +Billy struck; but the blow had no force, for he slipped, overreached, +lost his footing, and fell sprawling, almost within reach of his +adversary's teeth. The seal snarled and drew back, startled. Then he +advanced upon the boy, who had had no time to recover, much less to +scramble out of his desperate situation. + +It was for Archie to act. He leaped forward from his position behind +the seal, struck the animal with full force upon the tail, and darted +out of reach. The hood snorted, and turned in a rage to face his new +assailant. Billy leaped to his feet, gaff in hand, and faced about, +panting, but ready. He was preparing to attack again, when-- + +"What's that?" Archie cried in alarm. + +It was the boom of the ship's gun, followed by an ominous, hollow +crackling, which ran into the distance like a long peal of thunder. The +floe seemed to be turning. + +"'Tis goin' abroad!" Billy shouted. "Quick, b'y! T' the ship!" + +The boys had been out of sight of the ship, hidden by a shoulder of +the berg. They had not seen the flag of recall, which had been flying +for ten minutes. Again they heard the report of the gun; and they saw +Ebenezer Bowsprit and his men making shipwards with all speed. Billy +was fully aware of the danger. With another warning cry to Archie, he +started off on a run, turning from time to time to make sure that his +companion was following. + +The ice was nauseatingly unstable, grinding and shifting; but no open +water had as yet appeared, though, at any moment, a lane might open up +and cut off the retreat. The floe was feeling the force of a wind in +the north, and was stirring itself from edge to edge. It would soon be +shaken into its separate parts. But with Billy Topsail leading, the +boys ran steadily over the heaving foothold, and in good time came to +the ship, which the rest of the hunting party had already boarded. + +Billy Topsail was laughing. + +"I don't feel that way," said Archie, "we were in a good deal of +danger." + +Billy laughed louder. + +"Well, we _were_, weren't we?" Archie demanded. + +"Maybe," said Billy; "but you'll get used t' _that_!" + +They were not a moment too soon, however; for the pack very quickly +fell apart--thus opening a way for the escape of the _Dictator_. And +meantime, the gallant old dog hood had followed the retreating figures +with his eyes: after which, well satisfied with himself, he slipped +into the water and went fishing. + + + + +CHAPTER XXXI + + _The Dictator Charges an Ice Pan and Loses a Main Topmast_ + + +"CAST loose!" was the order from the bridge. + +The men scrambled to the berg and released the lines and ice-hooks. +The pack was still loosening under the rising breeze. To the east, +separating the sky from the ice, lay a long black streak--the water +of the open sea; a clear way to the broad, white fields. Once free of +the floe, the ship would speed northward to the Yellow Islands and +Cape William coasts. In a day and a night, the weather continuing +propitious, it would be, "Ho! for the ice. Ho! for the seals." + +A lane of water opened up. "Go ahead," was the signal from the master +on the bridge, and the ship moved forward, with her nose turned to the +sea. + +"Ha, Mr. Ackell!" exclaimed the captain, rubbing his horny hands. +"Looks t' be a fine time, man. We'll make the Yellow Islands at dawn +t'-morrow, if all goes well." + +When the _Dictator_ had followed the lane to within one hundred yards +of free water, the advance was blocked by a great pan of ice, tight +jammed in the pack on either side. So fast and vagrantly was the floe +shifting its formation that what had been a clear path was now crossed +by a mighty barrier. Here was no slob ice to be forged through at full +steam, but a solid mass, like a bar of iron, lying across the path. + +The ship was taken to the edge of the obstruction, and the captain and +mate went forward to the bow to gauge the strength of it. When they +came back to the bridge, the former had his teeth set. + +"It's stiff work for the old ship," said the mate. + +The captain growled as he pulled the signal lever for full speed astern. + +"Take half a day to cut a way through," he said. "We'll ram it. Here, +b'y," to Archie, "get off the bridge. You're in the way." + +Archie joined Billy Topsail on the forward deck. Neither had yet +experienced a charge on a pan of ice; but both had listened, open eyed, +to the sealing tales of daring that had brought disaster. + +"I feel queer," Archie remarked. + +"Cap'n Hand," said Billy, as though trying to revive his faith in the +old skipper, "he's a clever one. 'Tis all right." + +"Make fast below," the captain shouted over the bridge rail. + +The word was passed in a lively fashion. Tackle, boats, and all things +loose, were lashed in their places, as if for a great gale. + +"Stop!" was the next signal. Then: "Full speed ahead!" + +The blow had been launched! A moment later, the _Dictator_ was +ploughing forward, charging the pan, which she must strike like a +battering ram, and shiver to pieces. She was of solid oak, this good +ship, and builded for such attacks; steel plates would buckle and +spring under such shocks as she had many times triumphantly sustained. +The men were silent while they awaited the event. There was not a sound +save the hiss of the water at the ship's prows, and the _chug-chug_ of +the engines. + +Archie caught his breath. His eyes were fixed on the fast vanishing +space of water. The thrill of the adventure was manifest in Billy +Topsail's sharp, quick breathing, and in his blue eyes, which were as +though about to pop out of their sockets. + +"Stop!" + +The engines abruptly ceased their labour. Only a fathom or two of water +lay ahead. The ship was about to strike. There was a long drawn instant +of suspense. Then came the blow! + +It was a fearful shock. The vessel quivered, crushed her way on for a +space, and stopped dead, quivering still. A groan ran over her, from +stem to stern, as though she had been racked in every part. The main +topmast snapped and fell forward on the rigging with a crash. + +A volley of cracks sounded from the ice, like the discharge of a +thousand rifles, slowly subsiding. Dead silence fell and continued for +a moment. Then the screw churned the water, and the ship backed off, +sound, but beaten; for the pan of ice lay, unbroken and unchanged, in +its place, with but a jagged bruise, where the blow had been struck. + +"Aloft, there, some o' you, an' cut away that spar!" the captain +shouted. "Bill, get below, an' see if she's tight. Here, you, Dickson, +call the watch t' make sail. Mr. Girth," to the second mate, "take a +crew t' the ice. Blast that pan in three places. Lively, now, every man +o' you!" + +Roaring subordinates, answering "Ay, ay, sirs!" rattling blocks and +chains, the fall of hurried feet, cries of warning and encouragement, +the engine's gasps: these sounds confounded the confusion, and +continued it, while the ship, snorting like a frightened horse, was +backed to her first position. + +"He'll try it again," Archie gleefully observed to Billy. + +The captain was pacing the bridge. Try it again? He was in a fever of +impatience to be at it! It was as though the pan of ice were a foe +needing only another and a heavier blow to be beaten down. + +"Sure," said Billy, after a glance to the bridge, "he'll hit that pan +till he smashes it, if it takes till Tibb's Eve!" + +"Tibb's Eve?" + +"Sure, b'y. Does you not know what that is? 'Tis till the end o' the +world." + +The ship was again to be launched against the pan. The second mate took +the blasting crew to the ice in the quarter boat; and he lost no time +about it, as the captain made sure. Up aloft went other hands to cut +away the broken spar and loose the canvas. Work was carried on under +the spur of the captain's harshened voice; for the captain was in a +passion to prove the quality of his ship. + +The ice picks were plied as fast as arms could swing them. Soon the +mines were laid and fired. And when the dust of ice had fallen, and +the noise of the explosion had gone rumbling into the distance, three +gaping holes marked the pan at regular intervals from edge to edge. + +"She's all tight below, sir," was the carpenter's report. + +"Now, Mr. Ackell," said the captain, grimly, "in ten minutes we'll be +free o' the ice, or----" + +They made all sail. After a quiet word or two of command, forth the +ship shot, heeling to the breeze, wind now allied with steam. Her +course was laid straight for the jagged bruise in the pan. There was +no stopping her now. The ice was cracked and shivered into a thousand +pieces. The ship forged on, grinding the cakes to fragments, heaping +them up, riding them down. She quivered when she struck, and strained +and creaked as she crushed her way forward, but she crept on, +invincible, adding inch to inch, foot to foot, until she swept out into +the unclogged water. + +Then she shook the ice from her screw, and ran grandly into the +swelling sea. + +"Hurrah!" the stout hearts roared. + +"Hem--hem! Mr. Ackell," said the captain, with some emotion, "'tis a +great ship!" + + * * * * * + +It occurred to Archie that night, while he sat munching hard biscuit +with the captain before turning in, to ask a few questions about Tim +Tuttle. What was the matter with the man? Why did he go about with a +sneer or a frown forever on his face? Why was he not like all the rest +of the crew? Why did the crew seem to expect him to "do" something? Why +did the captain flush and bristle when Tuttle came near? + +"Oh," the captain replied, with a laugh, "Tuttle had a fallin' out with +me when we was young. I think," he added, gravely, "that he wronged me. +But that's neither here nor there. I forgave him. The point is--an' +I've often run across the same thing in my life--that he won't forgive +_me_ for forgivin' _him_. That's odd, isn't it? But it's true. An' he's +aboard here t' make trouble; an' the men know that that's just what he +came for." + +"But what did you ship him for, captain, if you knew that?" + +The captain paused. "Well," he said, "because I'm only a man, I s'pose. +I couldn't help knockin' the chip off his shoulder." + +"Do you think he _can_ make trouble?" + +"I'd like t' see him try!" the captain burst out, wrathfully. + +Tuttle's opportunity occurred the next day. + + + + +CHAPTER XXXII + + _In Which Seals are Sighted and Archie Armstrong has a + Narrow Chance in the Crow's-Nest._ + + +AT peep o' dawn the _Dictator_ made the Groais Island sealing grounds. +The day broke late and dull. The sky was a dead gray, hanging heavily +over a dark, fretful sea; and there was a threat of wind and snow in +the air. + +"Ice, sir!" said the mate, poking his head into the captain's cabin, +his ceremony lost in his elation. + +"Take her 'longside," cried the captain, jumping out of his berth. +"What's it like?" + +"Looks like a big field o' seal ice, sir." + +"Hear that, b'y?" the captain shouted to Archie, who was sitting up in +his berth, still rubbing his eyes. "A field o' ice! There'll be a hunt +t'-day. Mr. Ackell, tell the cook t' send the breakfast up here. What's +the weather?" + +"Promisin' thick, sir." + +When the captain and the boy went on deck, the ice was in plain +sight--many vast fields, rising over the horizon continually, so that +there seemed to be no end to it. From the crow's-nest it had been +reported to the mate, who reported to the captain, that the spars of +a three-masted ship were visible, and that the vessel was apparently +lying near the ice. That was considered bad news--and worse news yet, +when it was reported from the crow's-nest that she was flying the +house-flag of Alexander Bryan & Company, the only considerable rival of +the firm of Armstrong and Son. + +"Oh, well," said the captain, making the best of it in a generous way, +"there'll be 25,000 seals in that pack, an' out o' that we ought t' bag +enough t' pay both of us for the day's work." + +Archie caught sight of Billy Topsail, who was standing on the forward +deck, gazing wistfully at him; so he went forward, and the two found +much to say to each other, while the ship made for the ice under full +steam. They fought the fight with the dog hood over again; and when +Billy had acknowledged a debt to Archie's quick thought, and Archie had +repudiated it with some heat, they agreed that the old seal had been +a mighty fellow, and a game one, deserving his escape from continued +attack. Then they abandoned the subject. + +"Pretty hard work on the ice," Archie observed, sagely. + +"Sure!" Billy exclaimed; for that had been clear to him all his life. +"'Tis fearful dangerous, too. When my father was young, he was to the +ice in a schooner, an' they got caught with the fleet in raftin' ice[7] +offshore, up Englee way. He saw six schooners nipped; an' they were all +crushed like an egg, an' went down when the ice went abroad. His was +the only one o' all the fleet that stood the crush." + +"Think you'll share with the crew, Billy?" + +"I want to," Billy said with a laugh. Then, soberly: "I want to, for +I want t' get a skiff for lobster-fishin' in New Bay. They's lots o' +lobsters there, an' they's no one trappin' down that way. 'Tis a great +chance," with a sigh. + +The captain beckoned Archie to the upper deck. "Tell me, now," he said, +when the boy reached his side, "can you go aloft?" + +"Yes," Archie answered, laughing scornfully. "I'm no landsman!" + +"True word, if you're son of your father! Then get up with the bar'l +man, an' take a trick at swatchin'. 'Tis cold work, but great sport." + +"Swatching" is merely the convenient form for "seal watching." It +appeared to Archie that to swatch with the barrel man must be a highly +diverting occupation. He was not slow to mount the rope ladder to the +masthead, and slip into the cask with the swatcher, who chanced to be +Bill o' Burnt Bay and vociferously made him welcome. + +"See anything yet?" asked the boy. + +"I'll show you them swiles (seals) in a minute or two," Bill replied +confidently. + +Archie was closely muffled in wool and fur; but the wind, which was +bitter and blowing hard, searched out the unprotected places, and in +five minutes he was crouching in the cask for shelter, only too glad to +find an excuse in the swatcher's advice. + +"H-h-h-how l-l-long you been h-h-here?" he chattered. + +"Sure, b'y," said Bill, with no suspicion of a shiver in his voice, +"'tis goin' on two hours, now." + +"P-p-pretty cold, i-i-isn't it?" + +Bill o' Burnt Bay did not reply. His eye was glued to the telescope, +which fairly shook in his hands. Then he leaned over the rim of the +cask, altogether disregarding its instability. + +"Seals ho!" he roared. + +A cheer went up. Looking down, Archie saw the men swarming to the deck. + +"Take a look at them harps, b'y," said Bill, excitedly. "No! Starboard +the glass. There! See them?" + +Archie made out a myriad of moving specks--black dots, small and great, +shifting about over a broad white surface. They were like many insects. +He saw Alexander Bryan & Company's vessel, too; and it appeared to him +that the men were just landing on the ice to attack the pack. + +"That's the _Lucky Star_," Bill explained. "She's a smaller ship than +we, an' she've got about a hundred men, I s'pose. Never fear, lad, +we'll be up in time t' get our share o' the swiles." + +"I-I-I-I g-g-guess I'll g-g-go down, now," said Archie. + +Half an hour of exposure in the crow's-nest had chilled the lad to +numbness. His blood was running sluggishly; he was shivering; his legs +were stiff, and his hands were cold and uncertain in their grip. He +climbed out of the cask, and cleverly enough made good his footing on +the platform of the nest. It was when he essayed the descent that he +erred and faltered. + +He had a full, two-handed grip on the topmast backstays, and was secure +in searching with his foot for the rope ladder lashed thereto. But when +his foot struck, he released his left hand from the stays, without +pausing to make sure that his foot was firm-fixed on the rung. His foot +missed the rung altogether, and found no place to rest. In a flash, he +had rolled over, and hung suspended by one hand, which, numb though it +was, had unexpectedly to bear the weight of his whole body. + +"Be careful goin' down, b'y," he heard Bill o' Burnt Bay say. + +The voice seemed to come out of a great distance. Archie knew, in a +dim way, that the attention of the man was fixed elsewhere--doubtless +on the herd of harps. Then he fell into a stupefaction of terror. +It seemed to him, in his panic, that Bill would never discover his +situation; that he must hang there, with his grip loosening, instant by +instant--until he fell. + +He was speechless, incapable of action, when, by chance, Bill o' Burnt +Bay looked down. The sealer quietly reached over the cask and caught +him by the collar; then lifted him to the platform, and there held him +fast. Each looked silently, tensely, into the other's eyes. + +"'Tis a cold day," said Bill, dryly. + +Archie gasped. + +"Tough on tender hands, b'y," said Bill. + +"Yes," gasped the lad, in a hoarse whisper. + +There was a long silence, through which the swatcher looked Archie in +the eye, holding him tight all the while. + +"'Tis not wise t' be in a hurry, sometimes," he observed, at last. + +The boy waited until he could view the necessity of descent with +composure. Then, with extreme caution, he made his way to the deck, and +went to the cabin, where he warmed himself over the stove. Apparently, +the incident had passed unnoticed from the deck. He said nothing about +it to the captain, nor to any one else; nor did Bill o' Burnt Bay, who +had an adequate conception of the sensitiveness of lads in respect to +such narrow chances. + +FOOTNOTE: + +[7] A floe of pans so forcibly driven by the wind as to be crowded into +layers. + + + + +CHAPTER XXXIII + + _The Ice Runs Red, and, in Storm and Dusk, Tim Tuttle + Brews a Pot o' Trouble for Captain Hand, While Billy + Topsail Observes the Operation_ + + +MEANTIME the ship drew near the ice. When Archie came again on deck, +his nerves quite composed, she was being driven in and out through +the fields to a point as near to the first seal pack as she could be +taken--a mile distant, at the least. During this tedious search for +a landing place, the crew's eager excitement passed the bounds of +discipline. The men could see the crew from Alexander Bryan & Company's +_Lucky Star_ at work; and that excited them the more: they were mad to +reach the ice before their rivals could molest the pack for which they +were bound. + +When, at last, the engines were stopped, a party of sixty was formed +in a haphazard fashion; the boats were lowered in haste, and the men +leaped and tumbled into them, crowding them down to the gunwales. In +one of the boats were Archie and Billy, the former in the care of Bill +o' Burnt Bay, to whom the "nursing" was not altogether agreeable, +under the circumstances; the latter in charge of himself, a lenient +guardian, but a wise one. + +"Don't get into trouble with the crew o' the _Lucky Star_," had been +the captain's last command. + +The men landed, hurrahing, and at once organized into half a dozen +separate expeditions. The direction to be taken by each was determined +by the leaders, and they set off at a dog trot upon their diverging +paths over the ice to the widely distributed seal pack. Meantime, the +boats were taken back to the ship and hoisted in; and the ship steamed +off to land another party on another field, thence to land the last +party near a third pack. + +The boys trotted in Bill's wake. Two pennant bearers, carrying flags +to mark the heaps of "fat," as they should be formed, led the file. +One of these men--it happened by chance, to all appearances--was the +captain's enemy, Tim Tuttle. Their work was particularly important on +that day, with the crew of the _Lucky Star_ working so near at hand; +for the flags were to mark the ownership of the mounds of "fat," and +any tampering with these "brands" would be likely to precipitate a +violent encounter between the men of the rival ships. + +"I'm thinkin' 'twill snow afore night," Bill panted, as they ran along; +and, indeed, it appeared that it would. + +The advance soon had to be made with caution. The hunters were so near +the pack that the whines of the white coats could be heard. Archie +could make out not only the harps, but the blow-holes beside which they +lay in family groups. At this point the men formed in twos and threes, +and dispersed. In a few minutes more, they rushed upon the prey, +striking right and left. + +The ice was soon strewn with dead seals. It was harvest time for these +impoverished Newfoundlanders. Lives of seals for lives of men and +women! Bill o' Burnt Bay had ten "kids" at home, and he was merciless +and mighty in destruction. + +Archie and Billy came upon a family of four, lying at some distance +from their blow-hole--two grown harps, a "jar," which is a one year +old seal, and a ranger, which is three years old and spotted like a +leopard. Billy attacked the ranger without hesitation. Archie raised +his gaff above the fluffy little jar, which was fanning itself with its +flipper, and whining. + +"I can't do it!" he exclaimed, lowering his club, and turning away, +faint at heart; then "Look, Billy!" he cried, in half amused wonderment. + +The old seals had wriggled off to the blow-hole, moving upon their +flippers, in short jumps, as fast as a man could walk. Apparently they +had reached the hole at the same instant, which was not wide enough to +admit them both. Neither would give way to the other. They were stuck +fast, their heads below, their fat bodies above. + +Their selfish haste was their undoing. Billy was not loath to take +advantage of their predicament. + +Thus, everywhere, the men were at work. There was no friction with the +crew of the _Lucky Star_; the whole party worked amicably, and almost +side by side. When they had dispersed the pack, the "sculping" knives +were drawn, and the labour of skinning was vigorously prosecuted. The +skins, with the blubber adhering, were piled in heaps of six or more, +according to the strength of the men who were to "tow" them to the +edge of the field, where the ship was to return in the evening; and +every "tow" was marked with an Armstrong and Son flag. + +The _Lucky Star's_ recall gun surprised the men before the work was +finished. They looked up to find that the dusk was upon them, and that +the snow was falling--falling ever more thickly, and drifting with the +wind. The men of the _Lucky Star_ stopped work, hurriedly saw to it +that their heaps of pelt were all marked, and started on a run for the +ship; for, on the ice fields, the command of the recall gun is never +disregarded. + +"There goes the _Dictator's_ gun," shouted one of the men. + +A second boom added force to the warning. The captain was evidently +anxious to have his men safe out of the storm; the "fat" could be taken +aboard in the morning. So Bill o' Burnt Bay, who was in tacit command +of the party, called his men about him, and led the return. It was +a mile over the ice to the _Dictator_, which lay waiting, with the +second and third parties aboard. He was in haste; moreover, he had Sir +Archibald Armstrong's son in his care: perhaps, that is why he did not +stop to count the _Dictator's_ heaps of pelt before he started. + +"Come, now, Tuttle, don't lag!" he shouted, ambitious to have his party +return with no delay. + +But Tuttle still lagged--or, rather, ran from heap to heap of pelt, as +though to make sure that each was marked. He busied himself, indeed, +until the party was well in advance--until, as he thought, there was no +eye to see what he did under cover of the driving snow. Then he quickly +snatched _Lucky Star_ flags from half a dozen heaps of "fat," cast them +away, and planted _Dictator_ flags in their stead--a dishonourable duty +which the house-flag of Armstrong & Son had never before been made to +do. + +Quite sure, now, that he had shot an arrow that would sorely wound +Captain Hand and the firm of Armstrong & Son, Tuttle ran after his +party. When he was yet some distance behind, he turned about, and saw +a small figure following him. He stopped dead--and waited until that +small figure came up. + +"Topsail," he demanded, "what you been doin' back there?" + +Billy was very much frightened; but he was a truthful boy, and he now +told the truth. "Been sculpin' an' pilin' me swiles, sir," he stammered. + +"Has you been touchin' them flags?" + +"N-n-no, sir. I didn't have no time. I was afeared I'd get lost in the +snow." + +Tuttle caught the boy by the shoulders, and stared fiercely into his +eyes. "Did you see what I done?" he demanded. + +Billy was strongly tempted to choose the easier way; but, as I have +said, he was a truthful lad, and a brave lad, too. The temptation +passed in a moment, and he fearlessly returned Tuttle's stare. + +"Yes, sir," he said. + +"If you tells Cap'n Hand what you saw," said Tuttle, tightening his +grip, and bringing his face close to the lad's, "I'll----" + +He did not complete the threat. Billy Topsail's imagination, as he +knew, would conceive the most terrible revenge. + +"Yes, sir," Billy gasped, vacantly; for he was more frightened than he +had ever before been in his short life. + +That was all. They ran at full speed after their party, and soon joined +it. Tuttle kept at Billy's side while they were getting aboard the +ship, kept at his side while supper was served in the forecastle, kept +at his side through the short evening; kept at his side all the time, +in a haunting, threatening way that frightened Billy as nothing else +could, until the lad, tired out and utterly discouraged as to the +purpose he had formed, turned in, no less to escape Tuttle, who had now +grown hateful to him, than to rest. + +"Oh," he thought, "if Archie had on'y come t' the fo'c's'le this night, +I might 'a' told him; but now--I thinks--I'll be afeared, in the +mornin'." + + + + +CHAPTER XXXIV + + _In Which Tim Tuttle's Shaft Flies Straight for the Mark. + The Crews of the Dictator and Lucky Star Declare + War, and Captain Hand is Threatened with the Shame + of Dishonour, While Young Billy Topsail, Who Has the + Solution of the Difficulty, is in the Hold of the + Ship_ + + +TIM TUTTLE'S design against the honour of Captain Hand and of the firm +of Armstrong & Son promised well. The following day broke fine; and, +early in the morning, the crew of the _Dictator_ was turned out to load +the "fat" which had been left on the floe over night. About one hundred +men were sent to the ice; the rest were kept on the ship to stow away +the "tows" as they came aboard. Among the latter was young Billy +Topsail, who was ordered to the hold the moment he appeared on deck. + +The party under Bill o' Burnt Bay was first on the ground. Presently, +the men from the _Lucky Star_ arrived. For a time, pleasant words +passed between the crews. Soon, however, a group of _Lucky Star_ +hunters gathered out of hearing of the _Dictator's_ crew. Their voices, +which had been low at first, rose angrily, and to such a pitch that +the attention of Bill o' Burnt Bay was attracted. He observed their +suspicious glances, their wrathful faces, their threatening gestures; +and he promptly surmised that trouble of a familiar kind was brewing. + +It was evident that there was to be a dispute over the possession of +certain of the "tows." The rights of that dispute Bill was not in a +position to determine. So far as he knew--and he was bound to stand +squarely upon his own knowledge--there had been no wrong-doing on the +part of his men; and, being a man who never failed in his duty to the +firm, he resolved that not an ounce of "fat" which then lay under a +flag of Armstrong & Son should be yielded to the _Lucky Star_ until +a higher authority than he gave the word. Needless to say, that is +precisely what Tuttle expected of him. + +Moving quietly, lest he should provoke the dispute, Bill warned his men +to be on the alert. And it was not long before the crew of the _Lucky +Star_, with a stout fellow at their head, advanced threateningly. + +"Look here, you, Bill o' Burnt Bay," shouted the leader, "some o' your +men have been stealin' our tows." + +"Oh, come, now, Johnny Tott," Bill replied, good-humouredly, "that +ain't our way o' gettin' a cargo." + +The men of the _Dictator_ gathered behind Bill. Bill would have been +better pleased had they gathered with less haste, had there been less +of the battle-light in their eyes, had they held their gaffs less +tightly--but all that, of course, was beyond his control; he could only +make sure to have them there to defend the rights of the firm. + +"You can't scare _me_!" Johnny Tott flashed, angered by what he +understood to be a display of force, but still trying to keep his +temper. "We left twenty-two tows here last night, an' we find sixteen +this mornin'. Who took the odd six?" + +Bill was bent on having the question referred to the captains of the +ships. _They_ might settle it as they would. As for him--knowing from +experience how quickly such encounters might come, and how violent they +might be--all he desired was peaceably to protect the interests of his +employers, and of the men, who had a percentage interest in every seal +killed. + +"I don't want t' scare you, Johnny Tott," he replied, quietly. "I +thinks you've counted your flags wrong. Now, why can't we just----" + +Then came an unfortunate interruption. It was a long, derisive cat-call +from one of Bill's men--none other than Tim Tuttle. That was more than +could be borne by men who were confident of their rights. + +"Thieves!" half a dozen of the crew of the _Lucky Star_ retorted. "A +pack o' thieves!" + +It was a critical moment. The _Dictator's_ men, too, believed +themselves to be in the right; and there was a limit to what they, too, +could suffer. To be called thieves was perilously near that limit, +already provoked, as they were, by what they thought a bold attempt to +rob them of their seals. + +Bill turned quickly on his own men. "Stand back!" he cried, knowing +well that a rush impended. + +"Thieves! Thieves!" taunted the crew of the _Lucky Star_. + +"Keep your men quiet!" Bill roared to Johnny Tott. "There'll be trouble +if you don't." + +The _Lucky Star_ men were outnumbered; but not so far outnumbered that +their case would be hopeless in a hand-to-hand fight. Nevertheless, it +was the part of wisdom for Johnny Tott, who was himself animated by the +best motives, to keep them quiet. He faced them, berated them roundly, +and threatened to "knock the first man down" who should dare to +continue the disturbance. Thus encouraged, Bill o' Burnt Bay addressed +his crew briefly and to the point. + +"No nonsense, men!" he growled. "We wants no bloodshed here. The first +man that passes me," he added, in such a way that not a man of them +doubted he would make good his word, "may get hurt, an' badly hurt, +afore he knows it." + +It was no time for gentle dealing. Bill had strong, angry men to deal +with; and the responsibility of keeping them from wronging themselves +and their fellows sat heavily upon him. Confident, however, that he had +them in check, he advanced to parley with Tott. All would doubtless +have gone smoothly had there not been a designing man on Bill's side. +That man was Tuttle, to whom the course of events was not pleasing. +Perceiving, now, that an encounter was likely to be warded off, he +determined to precipitate it. + +"Who called me a thief?" he burst out. + +Then he broke away from his fellows, and ran towards the crew of the +_Lucky Star_, with his gaff upraised. But Bill o' Burnt Bay was quick +as a flash to intercept him. He tripped Tuttle up with his gaff, fairly +leaped upon the prostrate form, caught the man by the collar, dragged +him back and flung him at the feet of the crew. And, meantime, the +_Lucky Star_ men, who had instantly prepared to meet Tuttle, laughed +uproariously. That hearty laugh lightened the situation perceptibly. + +"An' here comes Cap'n Black!" shouted one of the men. + +Captain Hand of the _Dictator_, too, was on his way over the ice. Both +skippers had observed the cessation of the work and the separation +of the men into two hostile parties. Familiar as they were with such +disputes, they needed no message to tell them that their presence was +urgently needed on the floe. They came over the ice at full speed, at +the same time trying to get at the merits of the quarrel from the men +who ran to meet them; and, being fat sea-captains, both of them, and +altogether unused to hurried locomotion afoot, they were quite out of +breath when they met. + +The skipper of the _Lucky Star_ was a florid, peppery little man, much +given to standing upon his dignity. + +"Cap'n Hand," he puffed, "this is--an out--rage, sir! Is this the +way----" + +"'Scuse me--Cap'n B-Black--sir," the skipper of the _Dictator_ panted, +his little red eyes almost hidden by his bushy brows; "but--I'm +wonder--ful s'prised--that----" + +Captain Black drew a long breath, and proceeded more easily, but still +with magnificent dignity. "_I'm_ wonderful surprised t' know, sir," +he said, "that _this_ is the way Cap'n Hand makes a good v'y'ge of it +every year. I never knew how before, sir." + +"I'd have you t' know, sir," returned Captain Hand, bristling +ominously, "that I 'lows no man t' call me a thief." + +"I'd have you t' know, sir, that your men have stolen my fat." + +"An' I'll have you t' know, sir, that that's t' be proved." + +"Cap'n Hand, sir," declared Captain Black, swelling like a +pouter-pigeon the meanwhile, "you whole crew outnumbers mine nigh two +t' one, or I'd load every pound o' fat on the ice on my ship. But I +tells you now, sir, that I'll have the law o' you at St. John's. If you +touch them six tows I'll have you sent t' coolie for a thief, sir, if +there's an honest jury in the land! Mark my words, sir, I'll do it!" + +The upshot of it all was, when both captains had cut a ridiculous +figure for a considerable time (and had found it out), that the crews +were withdrawn to the ships, ostensibly for dinner, but really that +they might be kept apart while their blood was heated. A conference was +appointed for three o'clock in the afternoon; and in the interval the +captains were more fully and more accurately to inform themselves by +examining their respective crews. This was a very sensible agreement. +So far as it went, Captain Hand was content; but, being a wise and +experienced man, he foresaw that an amicable settlement of the +difficulty was extremely doubtful. + +"I hopes, anyhow, that 'twill not come t' blows," he told Archie, as +they trudged along, for his position made it impossible for him to +confide in anybody else. "'Twill be a dreadful disgrace if it comes t' +blows. An' maybe 'twill be something worse." + +When the men reached the _Dictator_, Billy Topsail was waiting on +deck, keen as the rest of them to know what had happened on the ice. +He had a wholesome conscience, and a reasonable courage; he had fully +determined to do his duty, and was about to attract Archie Armstrong's +attention--Archie was to be his first confidant--when Tuttle slipped +quietly to his side, and laid a hand on his shoulder. Billy had no need +to look up; he knew whose hand that was, and what the firm, increasing +pressure meant. + +"You better go t' the fo'c's'le, lad," Tuttle whispered in his ear. + + + + +CHAPTER XXXV + +_In Which the Issue is Determined_ + + +BILLY Topsail went to the forecastle as he was bid. With Tuttle so +near, he seemed not to have the will to carry out his purpose. He +passed Archie on the way forward, even responded to his nod and merry +greeting with a wistful smile; but said nothing, for he felt that +Tuttle's cold gray eyes were fixed upon him. Archie marked that strange +smile, and thought--it was just a fleeting thought--that Billy must +be in trouble; he was about to stop, but put the solicitous question +off--until another time. + +Aboard the _Lucky Star_, Captain Black called Johnny Tott to his cabin. +It was a serious moment for both, as both knew. The hunter realized +that the captain would act upon his statement, and that there would +be no return, once the course was taken. Moreover, he knew that he +would have to take oath, and support that oath with evidence, in the +court-room at St. John's. + +"Now, John, I wants just the plainest kind o' truth," the captain +began, for, shorn of his exaggerated dignity, he was a fair, +honest-hearted man. "I've been friends with Cap'n Hand ever since +we was young, an' I've liked him every hour o' that time, an' I've +believed in him every minute; so I'm in no humour t' have a fallin' +out with him. It'll go hard with the man who wrongfully leads me into +_that_. Come, now, what's the _truth_ o' all this?" + +"The truth, sir," Johnny replied, slowly, "is this: We left twenty-two +tows on the ice last night, every one with a Bryan & Company flag +flyin' over it, an' we found but sixteen this mornin'. That's all I +knows about it." + +"Did you make the count alone?" + +"No, sir. They was three others, which," most importantly, "I can +pro-dooce any minute." + +"All right, Johnny," said the captain, striking the table with his +fist. "I believe you. You won't find Cap'n Black go back on his crew. +I'll have that fat, if I have t' fight for it!" + +While this was passing, Captain Hand had summoned Bill o' Burnt Bay, +Ebenezer Bowsprit and two or three other trustworthy men to _his_ +cabin, and requested Archie Armstrong (the good captain seemed to +consider the lad in some measure a representative of the firm) to hear +the interview. One and all, for themselves and for the crew, they +earnestly denied knowledge of any trickery. They regretted, they said, +that the incident had occurred; but they believed that the seals were +the property of the ship, and they hoped that the captain would not +"see them robbed." + +"But, Bill," said the captain, hopelessly, "you didn't _count_ the +tows?" + +"No, sir," Bill answered, promptly, "I'm bound t' say I didn't. After +your two recall guns, sir, we was in a hurry t' get aboard. 'Twas a +fault, I knows, sir, but it can't be helped now. I don't _know_ that +anybody changed the flags. I hasn't any reason t' _think_ so. So I +_believe_ that the fat's ours." + +"Well, men," the captain concluded, "that's just my position. I _knows_ +nothin' t' the contrary; so I got t' believe that the fat's ours. +You'll tell the crew that I'll stand by them. We'll take that fat, +whatever they tries t' do, an' we'll let the courts decide afterwards. +That's all." + +There was fret and uncertainty for the captain after the men trooped +out. He was an honest man, seeking the right, but not sure that he was +right. It seemed to him that, whatever the outcome, his reputation +and that of the firm would be tarnished. In a trial at law, the crew +of the _Lucky Star_ and the firm of Alexander Bryan & Company would +appear as the aggrieved parties. Men would say--yes, men would even +publicly take oath to it--that Captain Hand was a thief, and that the +firm of Armstrong & Son abused its power and wealth in sustaining him. +Not everybody would believe _that_, of course; but many would--and the +odium of the charge would never disappear, let the verdict of the jury +be what it might. + +"B'y," he said to Archie, in great distress, "'tis a tryin' place t' +be in. I wants t' wrong nobody. 'Twould wound me sore t' wrong Cap'n +Black, who's always been my friend. But I got t' have that fat. A +sealin' skipper that goes back on his crew is not fit for command. I +_must_ stand by the men. If I had an enemy, b'y," he added, "an' that +enemy wanted t' ruin me, he couldn't choose a better----" + +Captain Hand stopped dead and stared at the table--stared, and gaped, +until his appearance was altogether out of the common. + +"What's the matter, cap'n?" asked Archie, alarmed. + +At that moment, however, there was a knock at the door. Billy Topsail +came in, pale and wide-eyed; but the sight of Archie seemed to compose +him. + +"I got t' tell you about Tim Tuttle," he began, hurriedly. "I hears +there's goin' t' be a fight, an'--an'--I got t' tell you that I seed +him change the flags on the tows." + +"What!" shouted the captain, jumping out of his chair. + +And so it all came out. At the end of the talk, Billy Topsail was +assured by the smiling captain that he need not fear Tim Tuttle after a +word or two had been spoken with him. Bill o' Burnt Bay was summoned, +and corroborated Billy's statement that Tuttle was the last man to +leave the tows. And Tuttle was the captain's enemy! Everybody knew it. +The difficulties were thus all brushed away. The crew would accept the +explanation and be content. Tuttle would be ridiculed until he was well +punished for the trick that had so nearly succeeded. It was a good +ending to the affair--a far better outcome than any man aboard had +dared hope for. + +"Bill," said the captain, with an odd little smile, "send Tim Tuttle t' +Cap'n Black, with my compliments; an' will Cap'n Black be so kind as t' +accept my apology, and have a friendly cup o' tea with me immediate?" + + * * * * * + +Later, when Tuttle left the captain's cabin, after the "word or two" +had been spoken, he was not grateful for the generous treatment he +had received. He meditated further mischief; but before the second +opportunity offered, there happened something which put animosity out +of the hearts of all the crew. + + + + +CHAPTER XXXVI + + _It Appears That the Courage and Strength of the Son of + a Colonial Knight are to be Tried. The Hunters are + Caught in a Great Storm_ + + +THE _Lucky Star_ and the _Dictator_ parted company the next day--the +former bound for the Labrador coast, the latter in a southerly +direction to White Bay. For several days, the _Dictator_ ran here +and there among the great floes, attacking small herds; and at the +end of a week she had ten thousand seals in her hold. But that cargo +did not by any means content Captain Hand. Indeed, he began to fear +the voyage would be little better than a failure. Nothing less than +twenty thousands pelts would be a profitable "haul" for a vessel of the +_Dictator's_ tonnage to carry back to St. John's. + +For that reason, perhaps, both the captain and the men were willing to +take some risk, when, late one morning, a large herd was sighted on a +floe near the coast in the southwest. The danger lay in the weather: it +was an unpromising day--cold and dull, and threatening snow and storm. +For a time the captain hesitated; but, at last, he determined to land +his men in three parties, caution them to be watchful and quick, and +himself try to keep the _Dictator_ within easy reach of them all. It +really did not appear to be necessary to waste the day merely because +the sky was dark over the coast. + +Bill o' Burnt Bay's party was landed first. Billy Topsail and Tim +Tuttle were members of it; and, as usual, Archie Armstrong attached +himself to it. As the _Dictator_ steamed away to land the second crew, +and, thence, still further away to land the third, Bill led his men on +a trot for the pack, which lay about a mile from the water's edge. + +"'Tis a queer day, this," Bill observed to the boys, who trotted in his +wake. + +"Sure, why?" asked Billy. + +"Is it t' snow, or is it not? Can you answer me that? Sure, I most +always can tell that little thing, but t'-day I can't." + +"'Tis like snow," Billy replied, puzzled, "an' again 'tisn't. 'Tis +queer, that!" + +"I hopes the captain keeps the ship at hand," said Bill. "'Tis not t' +my taste t' spend a night on the floe in a storm." + +To be lost in a blizzard is a dreaded danger, and not at all an +uncommon experience. Many crews, lost from the ship in a blinding +storm, have been carried out to sea with the floe, and never heard of +afterwards. Bill o' Burnt Bay lost his own father in that way, and +himself had had two narrow escapes from the same fate. So he scanned +the sky anxiously, not only as he ran along at the head of his sixty +men, but from time to time through the day, until the excitement of the +hunt put all else out of his head. + +[Illustration: "LASH YOUR TOWS, B'YS," SAID BILL. "LEAVE THE REST GO."] + +It was a profitable hunt. The men laboured diligently and rapidly. So +intent on the work in hand were they that none observed the darkening +sky and the gusts of wind that broke from behind the rocky coast. Thus, +towards evening, when the work was over save the sculping and lashing, +dusk caught them unaware. Bill o' Burnt Bay looked up to find that the +snow was flying, that it was black as ink in the northeast, and that +the wind was blowing in long, angry gusts. + +"Men," he cried, "did you ever see a sky like that?" + +The men watched the heavy clouds in the northeast rise and swiftly +spread. + +"Sure, it looks bad," muttered one. + +"Make haste with the sculpin'," Bill ordered. "They's wonderful heavy +weather comin' up. I mind me a time when a blizzard come out of a sky +like that." + +The dusk grew deeper, the snow fell thicker, the wind rose; and all +this Bill observed while he worked. Groups of men lashed their tows and +started off for the edge of the floe where the steamer was to return +for them. + +"Lash your tows, b'ys," shouted Bill, to the rest of the men. "Leave +the rest go. 'Tis too late t' sculp any more." + +There was some complaint; but Bill silenced the growlers with a sharp +word or two. The whole party set off in a straggling line, dragging +their tows; it was Bill who brought up the rear, for he wanted to make +sure that his company would come entire to the landing-place. Strong, +stinging blasts of wind were then sweeping out of the northeast, and +the snow was fast narrowing the view. + +"Faster, b'ys!" cried Bill. "The storm's comin' wonderful quick." + +The storm came faster than, with all his experience, Bill o' Burnt +Bay had before believed possible. When he had given the order to +abandon the unskinned seals, he thought that there was time and to +spare; but, now, with less than half the distance to the landing-place +covered, the men were already staggering, the wind was blowing a +gale, and the blinding snow almost hid the flags at the water's edge. +When he realized this, and that the ship was not yet in sight, "Drop +everything, an' run for it!" was the order he sent up the line. + +"Archie, b'y," he then shouted, catching the lad by the arm and drawing +him nearer, "we got t' run for the landing-place. Stick close t' me. +When you're done out, I'll carry you. Is you afraid, b'y?" + +Archie looked up, but did not deign to reply to the humiliating +question. + +"All right, lad," said Bill, understanding. "Is you ready?" + +Archie knew that his strength and courage were to be tried. He was +tired, and cold, and almost hopeless; but, then and there, he resolved +to prove his blood and breeding--to prove to these men, who had been +unfailingly kind to him, but yet had naturally looked with good-natured +contempt upon his fine clothes and white hands, that fortitude was +not incompatible with a neat cravat and nice manners. Beyond all that, +however, it was his aim to prove that Sir Archibald Armstrong's son was +the son of his own father. + +"Lead on, Bill," he said. + +"Good lad!" Bill muttered. + +Archie bent to the blast. + + + + +CHAPTER XXXVII + + _In Which the Men are Lost, the Dictator is Nipped and + Captain Hand Sobs, "Poor Sir Archibald!"_ + + +WHEN the last party of hunters had been landed from the _Dictator_, +the ship was taken off the ice field; and there she hung, in idleness, +awaiting the end of the hunt. It was then long past noon. The darkening +sky in the northeast promised storm and an early night more surely +than ever. It fretted the captain. He was accountable to the women and +children of Green Bay for the lives of the men; so he kept to the deck, +with an eye on the weather: and while the gloom deepened and spread, a +storm of anxiety gathered in his heart--and, at last, broke in action. + +"Call the watch, Mr. Ackell!" he cried, sharply. "We'll wait no longer." + +He ran to the bridge, signalled "Stand by!" to the engine-room, and +ordered the firing of the recall gun. The men of the last party were +within ear of the report. It brought all work on the ice to a close. +The men waited only to pile the dead seals in heaps and mark possession +with flags. + +"Again, mate!" shouted the captain. "They're long about comin', it +seems t' me." + +A second discharge brought the men on a run to the edge of the ice. +It was evident that some danger threatened. They ran at full speed, +crowded aboard the waiting boats, and were embarked as quickly as might +be. Then the ship steamed off to the second field, five miles distant, +to pick up the second party. When she came within hearing distance, +three signal guns were fired, with the result that, when she came to, +the men were waiting for the boats. + +It was a run of six miles to the field upon which the first party had +been landed--part of the way in and out among the pans. The storm +had now taken form and was advancing swiftly, and the fields in the +northeast were hidden in a spreading darkness. The wind had risen to +half a gale, and it was beginning to snow. A run of six miles! The +captain's heart sank. When he looked at the black clouds rising from +behind the coast, he doubted that the _Dictator_ could do it in time. +An appalling fortune seemed to be descending on the men on the ice. + +"But we may make it, mate," said the captain, "if----" + +"Ay, sir?" + +"If they's no ice comin' with the gale." + +The ship had been riding the open sea, skirting the floe. Now she came +to the mouth of a broad lane, which wound through the fields. It was +the course; along that lane, at all hazards, she must thread her way. +The danger was extreme. The wind, blowing a gale, might force the great +fields together. Or, if ice came with the wind, the lanes might be +choked up. In either event, what chance would there be for the men? In +the first event, which was almost inevitable, what chance would there +be for the _Dictator_ herself? + +"Cap'n Hand, sir," the mate began, nervously, "is you goin'----" + +The captain looked up in amazement when the mate stammered and stopped. +"Well, sir?" he said. + +"Is you goin' inside the ice, sir?" + +"Is I goin' WHAT?" roared the captain, turning upon him. "Is I goin' +WHAT, sir?" + +It was sufficient. The captain _was_ going among the fields. The mate +needed no plainer answer to his question. + +"Beg pardon, sir," he muttered meekly. "I thought you was." + +"Huh!" growled the captain. + +When the ship passed into the lane, the storm burst overhead. The +scunner in the foretop was near blinded by the driven snow. His voice +was swept hither and thither by the wind. Directions came to the bridge +in broken sentences. The captain dared not longer drive the vessel at +full speed. + +"Half speed!" he signalled. + +The ship crept along. For half an hour, while the night drew on, not a +word was spoken, save the captain's quiet "Port!" and "Starboard!" into +the wheelhouse tube. Then the mate heard the old man mutter: + +"Poor b'y! Poor Sir Archibald!" + +No other reference was made to the boy. In the captain's mind, +thereafter, for all the mate knew, young Archibald Armstrong, the +owner's son, was merely one of a crew of sixty men, lost on the floe. + +"Ice ahead!" screamed the lookout in the bow. + +The ship was brought to a stop. The lane she had been following had +closed before her. The mate went forward. + +"Heavy ice, sir," he reported. + +Broken ice, then, had come down with the wind. It had been carried into +the channels, choking them. + +"Does you see water beyond, b'y?" the captain shouted. + +"'Tis too thick t' tell, sir." + +The captain signalled "Go ahead!" The chance must be taken. To be +caught between two fields in a great storm was a fearful situation. +So the ship pushed into the ice, moving at a snail's pace, labouring +hard, and complaining of the pressure upon her ribs. Soon she made no +progress whatever. The screw was turning noisily; the vessel throbbed +with the labour of the engines; but she was at a standstill. + +"Stuck, sir!" exclaimed the mate. + +"Ay, mate," the captain said, blankly, "stuck." + +The ship struggled bravely to force her way on; but the ice, wedged all +about her, was too heavy. + +"God help the men!" said the captain, as he signalled for the stopping +of the engines. "We're stuck!" + +"An' God help us," the mate added, in the same spirit, "if the fields +come together!" + +Conceive the situation of the _Dictator_. She lay between two of many +vast, shifting fields, all of immeasurable mass. The captain had +deliberately subjected her to the chances in an effort to rescue the +men for whom he was accountable to the women and children of Green +Bay. She was caught; and if the wind should drive the fields together, +her case would be desperate, indeed. The slow, mighty pressure exerted +by such masses is irresistible. The ship would either be crushed to +splinters, or--a slender chance--she would be lifted out of danger for +the time. + +Had there been no broken ice about her, destruction would have been +inevitable. Her hope now lay in that ice; for, with the narrowing of +the space in which it floated, it would in part be forced deep into the +water, and in part be crowded out of it. If it should get under the +ship's bottom, it would exert an increasing upward pressure; and that +pressure might be strong enough to lift the vessel clear of the fields. +The captain had known of such cases; but now he smiled when he called +them to mind. + +"Take a week's rations an' four boats t' the ice, mate," he directed, +"an' be quick about it. We'll sure have t' leave the ship." + +While the mate went about this work, the captain paced the bridge, +regardless of the cold and storm. It was dark, the wind was bitter and +strong, the snow was driving past; but still he paced the bridge, now +and then turning towards the darkness of that place, far off on the +floe, where his men, and the young charge he had been given, were lost. +The women of Green Bay would not forgive him for lives lost thus; of +that he was sure. And the lad--that tender lad---- + +"Poor little b'y!" he thought. "Poor Sir Archibald!" + +For relief from this torturing thought, he went among the men. He found +most of them gathered in groups, gravely discussing the situation of +the ship. In the forecastle, some were holding a "prayer-meeting"; the +skipper paused to listen to the singing and to the solemn words that +followed it. Here and there, as he went along, he spoke an encouraging +word; here and there dropped a word of advice, as, "Timothy, b'y, you +got too much on your back; 'tis not wise t' load yourself down when +you takes t' the ice," and the like; here and there, in a smile or a +glance, he found the comforting assurance that the men knew he had +tried to do his duty. + +"Cap'n John Hand," he thought, when he returned to the bridge, "you +hasn't got a coward aboard!" + +The mate came up to report. "We've the boats on the ice, sir," he said, +"an' I've warned the crew t' make ready." + +"Very well, Mr. Ackell; they's nothin' more t' be done." + +"Hark, sir!" + +The ice about the ship seemed to be stirring. Beyond--from far off in +the distance to windward--the noise of grinding, breaking ice-pans +could be heard. There was no mistaking the warning. The moment of peril +was at hand. + +"The fields is comin' together, sir." + +"Call the crew, Mr. Ackell," said the captain, quietly. + +The men gathered on deck. They were silent while they waited. The +only sounds came from the ice--and from overhead, where the wind was +screaming through the rigging. + +"'Tis comin', sir," said the mate. + +"Ay." + +"God help us!" + +"'Twill soon be over, Mr. Ackell," observed the captain. + +He awaited the event with a calm spirit. + + + + +CHAPTER XXXVIII + + _And Last: In Which Wind and Snow and Cold Have Their + Way and Death Lands on the Floe. Billy Topsail Gives + Himself to a Gust of Wind, and Archie Armstrong + Finds Peril and Hardship Stern Teachers. Concerning, + also, a New Sloop, a Fore-an'-After and a Tailor's + Lay-Figure_ + + +BILL o' Burnt Bay did not lead a race for the landing place. When he +looked up, a thick curtain of snow hid the flags. It was then apparent +to him that he and his men must pass the night on the ice. In a +blizzard of such force and blinding density, no help could reach them +from the ship, even if she managed to reach the place where the men +were to be taken aboard. + +Nothing was visible but the space immediately roundabout; and the +wind had risen to such terrific strength that sound could make +small way against it. Thus, neither lights nor signal guns could be +perceived--not though the ship should beat her way to within one +hundred yards of where the group stood huddled. There was nothing for +it but to seek the shelter of an ice hummock, and there await the +passing of the storm. + +"B'ys," he said to the few men who had gathered about him, and he +shouted at the top of his voice, for the wind whisked low-spoken words +away, "they's a hummock somewheres handy. Leave us get t' the lee of +it." + +"No, no!" several men exclaimed. "Leave us get on t' the rest o' the +crew. 'Tis no use stayin' here." + +"The path is lost, men," Bill cried. "You'll lose your way--you'll lose +your lives!" + +But they would not listen. They hurried forward, and were soon +swallowed up by the night and snow. Bill o' Burnt Bay was left alone +with Billy and Archie and a man named Osmond, who was a dull, heavy +fellow. + +"They's a hummock within a hundred yards o' here," Bill shouted. "I +marked it afore the snow got thick. We must find it. 'Tis----" + +"'Tis t' the left; 'tis over there," said Billy, pointing to the left. +"I marked it well." + +"Ay 'tis somewheres t' the left. Our only chance is t' find it. Now, +listen well t' what I says. We must spread out. I'll start off. Archie, +you follow me; keep sight o' me--keep just sight o' me, an' no more; +but don't lose me, b'y, for your life. Osmond, you'll follow the b'y; +an' be sure you watch him well. Billy, b'y, you'll follow Osmond. When +we gets in line, we'll face t' the left an' go for'ard. The first t' +see the hummock will signal the next man, an' he'll pass the word." + +The three nodded their heads to signify their understanding of these +directions. + +"Osmond, don't lose sight o' this b'y," said Bill, impressively, +placing his hand on Archie's shoulder. "D'you mind? Men," he went on, +"if one loses sight o' the others, 'tis all up with us. Leave your pelt +go. I'll take mine." + +Shelter from that frosty wind was imperative in Archie's case. He made +no complaint, for it was not in his nature to complain; but, strong +to endure as he was, and stout as his spirit was, the cold, striking +through the fur and wool about him, was having its inevitable effect. + +When Bill moved off, dragging his burden of pelt, the boy calmly +waited until the stalwart figure had been reduced to an outline; then, +with heavy steps, but fixed purpose to acquit himself like a man, he +followed, keeping his distance. Osmond came next. Young Billy had the +exposed position--a station of honour in which he exulted--at the other +end of the line. + +Bill gave the signal, which was passed along by Archie to Osmond and by +him to Billy, and they faced about and moved forward in the direction +in which the hummock lay. + +Archie searched the gloom for the gray shape of the hummock. It was a +shelter--a mere relief. But how despairingly he searched for a sight of +that formless heap of ice! Soon he began to stumble painfully. Once he +lost sight of Bill o' Burnt Bay. Then he faltered, fell and could not +rise. It was the watchful Bill who picked him up. + +"What's this, b'y?" Bill asked, his voice shaking. + +"I fell down," Archie answered, sharply. "That's all." + +"I'll carry you, b'y," Bill began. "I'll carry you, if----" + +Archie roughly pushed the man away. Then he stumbled forward, keeping +his head up. + +At that moment, Osmond, who was like a shadow to the right, gave the +signal. So Bill knew that Billy, whom he could not see, had chanced +upon the hummock. He caught Archie up in his arms, against the boy's +protests and struggles, and ran with him to Osmond, and thence to +Billy, all the time dragging his "tow." + +When they reached the lee of the ice, Archie lay quietly in Bill's +arms. He was about to fall asleep, as Bill perceived. + +"Unlash the tow," Bill said, quickly, to Osmond, "an' start a fire." + +With the help of Billy, Osmond took a pelt from the pack, and spread it +on the ice. + +"They's no wood," he said, stupidly. + +"Take the cross-bar o' the tow line, dunderhead!" cried Billy. "Here! +Leave me do it." + +While Billy released the slender bar of wood from the end of the +line, stuck it in the blubber and prepared to set fire to it, Bill +was dealing with Archie's drowsiness. He shook the lad with all +his strength, slapped him, shook him again, ran him hither and +thither, and, at last, roused him to a sense of peril. The boy fought +desperately to restore his circulation. + +"'Tis ready t' light," Billy said to Bill. + +"Leave me do it," Bill answered. "Keep movin', b'y," he cautioned +Archie. "Don't you give up." + +Give up? Not he! And Archie said so--mumbled it scornfully to Bill, +and repeated it again and again to himself, until he was sick of the +monotony of the words, but could not stop repeating them. + +Neither Osmond nor Billy had matches, but Bill had a box in his +waistcoat pocket. He shielded the contents from the wind and snow while +he took one match out. Then he closed the box and handed it to Osmond +to hold. It was well that he did not return it to his own pocket. + +Archie was stumbling back and forth over the twenty yards of sheltered +space. He had a great, shadowy realization of two duties: he must keep +in motion, and he must keep out of the wind. All else had passed from +his consciousness. At every turn, however, he unwittingly ventured +further past the end of the hummock. + +Twice the wind, the full force of which he could not resist, almost +caught him. Then came a time when he had to summon his whole strength +to tear himself from its clutch. He told himself he must not again pass +beyond the lee of the ice. But, before he returned to that point, he +had forgotten the danger. + +A mighty gust laid hold on him, carried him off his feet, and swept him +far out into the darkness.[8] It chanced that Billy Topsail, who had +kept an eye on Archie, caught sight of him as he fell. + +"Archie!" the boy screamed. + +"Archie?" cried Bill, looking up. "What----" + +Archie had even then been carried out of sight. Billy leaped to his +feet and followed. He gave himself to the same gust of wind, and, with +difficulty keeping himself upright, was carried along with it. Bill +grasped the situation in a flash. He, too, leaped up, and ran into the +storm. + +"Archie, b'y!" he cried. "Where is you? Oh, where is you, lad?" It was +the first time in many years that heart's agony had wrung a cry from +old Bill o' Burnt Bay. + +Billy Topsail was carried swiftly along by the wind. It was clear to +him that, should he diverge from the path of the gust, not only would +he be unable to find the lost boy, but he himself would be in hopeless +case. The wind swept him close upon Archie's track, but, as its force +wasted, ever more slowly. He soon tripped over an obstruction, and +plunged forward on his face. He recovered, and crawled back. There he +came upon Archie, lying in a heap, half covered by a drift of snow. + +"B'y," Billy shouted, "is you dead?" + +Archie opened his eyes. Billy Topsail looked close, but could see no +light of intelligence in them. He shook the boy violently. + +"Wake up!" he cried. "Wake up!" + +"What?" Archie responded, faintly. + +Billy lifted him to his feet, but there was no strength in the lad's +legs; he was limp as a drunken man. But this exertion restored Billy +Topsail; he felt his own strength returning--a strength which the +arduous toil of the coast had mightily developed. + +"Stand up, b'y!" he shouted in Archie's ear. "Put your arm on my +shoulder. I'll help you along." + +"No," Archie muttered. But despite this protest he was lifted up; then +he said: "Give me your hand. I'm all right." + +Billy wasted no words. He locked his arms about Archie's middle, +lifted him, and staggered forward against the wind. + +The wind had fallen somewhat, and he made some progress. But the burden +was heavy, and twice he fell. Then he heard Bill o' Burnt Bay's voice, +and he shouted a response, but the wind carried the words away. He +could hear Bill, who was to windward, but Bill could not hear him. So +when the call came again, he marked the location and staggered in that +direction. + +"Oh, Billy! Oh, Archie!" + +The voice was nearer--and to the left. Billy Topsail changed his +course. The next cry came from the right again. Was the wind deceiving +him? Or was Bill changing his place? Then came a ringing cry near at +hand. + +"Bill!" screamed Billy Topsail. + +"Here! Where is you?" + +Bill's great body emerged from the darkness. He cried out joyfully as +he rushed forward, took Archie from Billy's arms, and slung him over +his shoulder. + +"Praise God!" he muttered tremulously, when he felt life stirring in +the small body. + +He put his face close to Billy Topsail's and looked steadily into the +boy's eyes for an instant; and no words were needed to say what he +meant. + +[Illustration: "WE'RE SAVED!" SAID BILL.] + +But where was the hummock? Bill looked about. + +"'Tis there," said Billy, pointing ahead. + +Bill shook his head. His homing instinct, to which he had trusted +his life in many a fog and night, told him otherwise. Reason entered +into his decision not at all; he merely waited until he was persuaded +that his face was turned in the right direction. Then he started off +unhesitatingly. He had found the harbour entrance thus in many a thick +summer night when his fishing punt rode a trackless sea. + +"Take hold o' me jacket, b'y," he said to Billy. "Mind you stick close +by me." + +For some time they wandered without seeing any sign of the hummock. +Bill's heart sank lower and lower; for he knew that if they did not +soon find shelter, Archie would die in his arms. At last Bill caught +sight of a light--a dull, glowing light. + +"Is that a fire?" he asked. + +"'Tis the hummock!" Billy cried. "'Tis Osmond with the fire goin'. 'Tis +he! 'Tis he!" + +"We're saved," said Bill. + +Once in the lee of the hummock, they roused Archie from his stupor, +and warmed him over the fire, which Osmond, after many failures, had +succeeded in lighting. They broke the cross-piece of the tow line in +two, took another pelt from the pack, and made two fires. The wood +was like the wick in a candle; it blazed in the blubber, and was not +consumed. Between the fires they huddled together, with Archie in the +middle. Their bodies warmed the lad, and he slumbered snugly, quietly, +through the night. Billy Topsail, more sturdy of body, if not of +spirit, kept awake, and had a part in the talk with which each tried to +cheer the others through the fearful, dragging hours. + +"'Tis the day," said Bill, at last, pointing to the east. + +The wind abated as the dawn advanced, and the snow ceased to fall. +Light crept over the field, and men appeared from behind clumpers of +ice. Group signalled to group. All made their way to the place where +the ship had landed them, a dozen men were already clustered--a gaunt, +haggard, frost-bitten crowd. The terrors of the night still oppressed +them, and, through weeks, would haunt their dreams. + +They counted their number. Fifty-nine living men were there; and +there was one dead body--that of Tim Tuttle of Raggles Island, who had +strayed away from his fellows and been lost. And thus they awaited the +full break of day, while eyes were strained into the departing night. +Where was the ship? Had she survived? These were the questions they +asked one another. + +"What's that patch o' black?" Bill o' Burnt Bay asked. "Due west, +lads--a mile or more off?" + +"Sure, it looks like the ship," some of the men agreed. + +As the light increased, the storm passed on. A burst of sunshine at +last revealed the _Dictator_, lying on the ice, listed far to port. The +broken ice in which she had been caught, they learned afterwards, had +been forced under her, and she had been lifted out of danger when the +fields that nipped her came together. + +When it is said that old Captain Hand welcomed his crew with open arms, +and embraced Archie--the meanwhile searching through all his pockets +for a handkerchief, which he could not find--there remains little to be +told. He was more haggard than the rescued men. What depths his brave +spirit sounded on that long night are not to be described. + +"Well, b'y," was what he said to Archie, "you're back, is you?" + +"Safe and sound, cap'n," the boy replied, wearily, "and hungry." + +"Send the cook for'ard with the scoff!" roared the captain. + +Before noon, all the men were safe aboard, and the ice was breaking up. +When the _Dictator_ settled softly into the water, at the parting of +the fields, the pelt was stowed away. She had no difficulty in making +the open sea; and thence she set forth in search of other floes and +other seal packs. + + * * * * * + +The _Dictator_ made Long Tom Harbour without mishap. There it was made +known that the name of Billy Topsail of Ruddy Cove was "on the books," +and not a man grumbled because the lad was to share with the rest. +There, too, old John Roth, to whom two "white coats" had been promised, +claimed the gift of Archie, and was not disappointed. And there Archie +said good-bye to Billy for the time. + +"I'll see you this summer," he said. "Don't forget, Billy. I'll spend +a week of vacation time with you at Ruddy Cove." + +"No," Billy replied. "You'll spend it at New Bay. Sure, me name is on +the books, an' I'm goin' after lobsters with me own skiff in July." + +"I'll go with you, if you'll take me," said Archie. "And I can never, +never forget that you----" + +"Sure," Billy Topsail interrupted, flushing, "you'll go with me t' New +Bay. An' times we'll have of it!" + +"Good-bye!" + +"Good-bye, b'y!" + +And so they parted on terms of perfect equality. + + * * * * * + +That summer, Billy Topsail went to New Bay. But it was not in a skiff; +it was in a swift little sloop, especially made to be sailed by a crew +of one. It came North, mysteriously, from St. John's, to the wonder +of all Green Bay; and its name was _Rescue_. And a letter came North +for Bill o' Burnt Bay: which, when he read it, stirred him to the +profoundest depth of his rugged old heart, for he roared in a most +unmannerly fashion that he'd "be busted if he'd take a thing for +standin' by such a lad!" In reply to a second letter, however, Bill +said he would "be willin' t' take it on credit, if he'd be 'lowed t' +pay for it as he could." So that is how Bill o' Burnt Bay came to sail +to the Labrador in his own fore-and-after, when the fish were running. + +And, once, Sir Archibald Armstrong turned to his son. "Well, my boy," +he said, slowly, "I've been wanting to ask you a question. What do you +think of your shipmates?" + +"I think they're heroes, every one!" Archie answered. + +"Do you think you now know the difference between a man and a tailor's +lay-figure?" + +"Oh, sir," Archie laughed, "I'll never forget _that_!" + +Billy Topsail had never needed to learn. + + + +FOOTNOTE: + +[8] It is related by the survivors of the steamship _Greenland_ +disaster, of some years ago, in which sixty lives were lost, that one +man was in this way carried half a mile over the ice. When he was +found, he had gone mad. + + + + + * * * * * + + + + +Transcriber's note: + +Obvious punctuation errors were corrected. + +Page 49, "cost" changed to "coast" (a rocky sea-coast) + +Page 142, "peninsular" changed to "peninsula" (bleak peninsula to the) + +Page 216, "Landside" changed to "Landslide" (Landslide at Little Tickle) + +Page 274, the anchor for the footnote after "raftin' ice" was added to +the text. + +Page 328, "handkerckief" changed to "handkerchief" (pockets for a +handkerchief) + +*** END OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK 44037 *** |