Seven Frozen Sailors

Fenn George Manville

Seven Frozen Sailors

Chapter One.

How We Got There

“But what are we going for?”

If he had not been so much of a gentleman, I should have said that the half-closing of his left eye and its rapid reopening had been a wink; as it was, we will say it was not. The next moment, he had thrown himself back in his chair, smiled, and said, quietly. “Not yet, captain – not yet. I’ll tell you by-and-by. At present it is my secret. Waiter, fill these glasses again!”

“But look here,” I said, as soon as the waiter had done his duty, “you can’t sail right up into the Arctic circle without a crew.”

“No,” he said, shaking his head; “but you will go?”

“Well – yes,” I said; “I don’t mind. She’s a smart steamer, and well found. I’ll take her.”

He rose solemnly from his chair, crossed to my side, and shook hands, before wabbling back and sitting down, filling the old-fashioned Windsor armchair so very full, that I wondered it didn’t come to pieces.

I don’t want to be personal, but he certainly was the fattest man I ever saw, and the most active. The Claimant was nothing to him. He looked perfectly stupid, as he sat there with a great wattle under his chin, which came all over his white neckerchief and clean-frilled shirt; and as he talked to you, he kept spinning round the great bunch of gold seals at the end of a watered silk ribbon, that hung over his glossy black trousers, while the huge flaps of his black bob-tail coat hung over the sides of the chair.

“You’ll be my captain, then?” he said.

“Yes, sir, I’m ready,” I replied; “but about the crew. Their first question will be, ‘is it whale or seal?’”

“Tell them – tell them,” he said, musing, – “tell them seal, and we’ll do a bit of sealing on the voyage; but, my dear Captain Cookson, the real object of our trip is at present under seal. You understand?”

I nodded.

“Then get a good staunch, picked crew, and don’t spare for expense. You’ll want good first and second mates. Shall I engage them?”

“Oh, no, thanky, sir,” I said hastily; “I – ”

“Captain Cookson here?” said a voice I knew, and Abram Bostock thrust his head just inside the door. “Oh, beg pardon, sir!”

“Come in, Abram!” I said, eagerly.

“Begging the gentleman’s pardon,” he said, wiping a little brown juice out of each corner of his mouth; “I only wanted a word with you, skipper. Binny Scudds is outside.”

“Bring him in, then!” I said, quickly.

Abram looked from one to the other, rubbed his hollow, sallow cheeks, upon which there was not a particle of hair, and then his body swayed about as if, being so thin, the draught of the door was blowing him, – “Bring him in?” he said.

“To be sure!” I exclaimed.

Tall, thin, Abram Bostock stared at my companion for a moment, and then backed out, to return directly with my old bos’en, Abinadab Scudds, half leading, half dragging him; and no sooner was the mahogany-faced old salt inside the door, and caught sight of the stranger, than he slewed round, and was half outside before Abram growled out, “Avast there!” collared him, and bringing him back, closed the door; when Scudds growled out something that seemed to come from somewhere below his waistband, and then, thoroughly captured, he stood, rolling his one eye from one to the other, and began to rub his shaggy head, ending by an old habit of his – namely, taking out a piece of rope, and beginning to unlay it.

“Begging the gentleman’s pardon,” said Abram, as he feasted on his goodly proportions, “I come to tell you, skipper, as they wants a cap’n and mates for the Gladiator.”

“But you have not engaged?” I said, anxiously.

Scudds growled, bear-fashion, and shook his head.

“Because here’s a chance for you, my lads!” I said. “I have engaged with Doctor – Doctor – ”

“Curley,” said my stout friend.

“With Doctor Curley, to command that smart steamer lying in the Greenland Dock, and we go up north. Will you come?”

“What arter?” growled Scudds, tearing at his piece of rope.

“Seal,” I said, with a look at the doctor. “What do you say, Bostock?”

“Oh, I’m game, if you’re going, skipper!” he said, staring at the doctor.

“And you, Scudds?”

“Same as Abram,” growled Abinadab – Binny we called him, for short.

“This is lucky, doctor!” I said; “for our two friends here will soon get a good crew together. Plenty of men will be glad to join the vessel they sail in!”

“Don’t you believe him, sir!” said Abram, polishing away at his cheek. “It’s acause the skipper there, Capen Cookson’s going, as they’d come!”

“Ah! Well, never mind about that,” said the doctor, smiling. “So long as I’ve a good crew going with me, I don’t care what induces them.”

“But you ain’t a-going, sir?” says Abram, looking harder than ever at our owner.

“Indeed, but I am, my man!” replied the doctor. “Why not?”

“Oh, nothing, sir!” says Abram, looking as confused as a great girl, while he stared harder than ever at the doctor.

“Now, what on earth are you thinking about?” said the doctor, making an effort to cross his legs, but failing, on account of the tight fit in the chair.

“Well, sir,” says Abram Bostock, slowly, “meaning no offence, I was a-wishing I were as fat as you are!”

“Oh, lor’!” groaned Scudds. And his one eye rolled tremendously.

“My good friend,” exclaimed the doctor, starting up a little way, but subsiding again, for he had raised the chair with him, as if he had been a hermit-crab and it was his shell, – “my good friend, I’d give five thousand pounds to be as thin as you!”

“Hor – hor – hor – hor!” roared Scudds, bursting into a tremendous laugh. “I say, skipper, what a wunner he’d be if we took to the boats!”

“Hush!” I exclaimed.

“What does he mean?” cried the doctor; “that I should sink the boat?”

“No,” growled Scudds. “Long pork!”

“Long pork!” said the doctor.

And Abram clapped his hands over his mouth, to stay his laughter.

“Yes,” growled Scudds, grinning, and showing a wonderfully white set of teeth; “long pork – long pig – human! Don’t you see? You’d keep a boat’s crew for a fortnit, if they were hard up and starvin’. Hor – hor – hor – hor!”

“My good man,” cried the doctor, shuddering, “that’s a very good joke, no doubt, and very funny, only don’t make it about me again; try it on somebody else! Such a dreadfully anthropophagistic idea!”

“Which?” growled Scudds.

“Well, then, cannibal idea,” said the doctor, shuddering again.

“Lor’, sir, I meant no harm,” said Scudds holding out his great, heavy paw, which the doctor shook. “I’ve often made it about long, thin, Abram Borstick, there; only when I makes it about him, I allers puts it t’other way, and says he’d starve a boat’s crew for a fortnit. Don’t you see?”

“Oh, yes, I see!” said the doctor, nodding.

“And it’s the only joke he ever does make, sir,” says Abram.

“Right,” growled Scudds.

“I didn’t mean no offence, sir, about your going, neither,” said Abram, respectfully. “Of course it’ll be a great advantage to have a doctor on board. You air a doctor, sir?”

“Yes,” said our stout employer, laughing till his cheeks wabbled. “I can cure anything from a frost-bite to a flea-bite; but I’m not an M.D.”

“No; of course not, sir,” says Abram, nodding his head sagely.

“I mean, sir, not a doctor of medicine.”

“Good job, too,” growled Scudds. “Yah! I hates physic!” and he looked about for somewhere to spit, ending by opening the room door, and disposing of his tobacco-juice on the mat.

“Well, then, sir,” I said, rising, “here are our first and second mates, and I’ll get together a crew of sixteen men in a few days, and meet you every morning on board.”

“My sarvice to you, sir,” said Abram, touching his forehead.

“And mine,” growled Scudds.

I was close beside the doctor now, and held the chair as he rose, otherwise he would have lifted it with him. Then we took our leave, and I walked down Hull Street with my two old shipmates.

“Where did you pick up the skipper?” growled Scudds.

“Well,” I said, “he’s been dodging me about for a week, and been mighty civil, so much so, that I thought he wanted to try the confidence dodge on me, of trusting one another with money; but it’s all right, my lads, we’ve found a good ship and owner, and the pay’s good, so we’ll sign the articles to-morrow, and get to work.”

I needn’t tell you all that took place during the next mouth; how we got coal on board, and stores, and casks for oil, or whatever we might get; had her cabins lined to keep them warm; fitted up stoves; had plenty of extra canvas and spars, ice-anchors, a couple of sledges; plenty of ammunition, and provisions enough for two years. Last of all came on board a whole lot of strange-looking mahogany cases, which the doctor had brought very carefully under his own superintendence, and then, one fine morning in June, we steamed out of the Humber, and away we went to the North, with the doctor going about the deck like an active tub, rubbing his hands, and smiling at every body.

Everything was soon ship-shape; boats ready for work, fur coats and boots served out to the men against they were wanted, and I was very busy one morning getting some of the tackle a little better stowed, when the doctor waddled up to me, and tapped me on the shoulder.

I turned round, and he led the way into the cabin, sat down, and pointed to a seat.

“Now, Captain Cookson,” he said, “I think it’s time to tell you about my plans.”

“If you please, sir,” I said, “that is if it suits you.”

“Well,” he said, “you are now sailing to the North.”

“Yes, sir, according to your orders, right away for Spitzbergen.”

“And do you know what for?”

“Discovery of some kind, sir, I suppose.”

“You are right, Captain; I mean to discover the North Pole.”

“With all my heart, sir,” I said.

“At least,” he said, “I mean to try. If I fail, I shall still be able to make a good many scientific discoveries, so that the voyage won’t be for nothing.”

“No, sir,” I said.

“It has been one of the dreams of my life to go upon a scientific voyage up in the North; but the Admiralty wouldn’t listen to me. They had the notion that I was not a suitable man for the expedition; when all the while Nature has expressly designed me for the purpose. See how she has clothed me with adipose tissue.”

“With what, sir?”

“Fat, man – fat! like she does the bears, and whales, and Eskimo. While you men will be shivering in your fur coats, I shall be quite warm without. Well, what we have to do is to take advantage of every open channel when we reach the ice, and push forward due North. If the men get discontented, we will keep promising them extra pay, and – What’s the matter?”

“Skipper, sir!” growled Scudds, who had just thrust his head in at the cabin door. “Wanted on deck, sir – reg’lar mutinee. Tom Brown’s come up from below, and says as there’s a ghost in the hold!”

“Where – where?” cried the doctor, excitedly, as he waddled out of the cabin, thoroughly earning the nickname the men had bestowed upon him of The Penguin. “Captain, get one of the casks ready for a specimen. I have never seen a ghost!”

“Ain’t he a rum beggar, skipper?” whispered Scudds, as we followed him on deck, where a knot of the crew were standing round one of the foremast-men, Tom Brown, whose face was covered with perspiration, his hair being plastered down upon his forehead.

“Well, where’s the ghost, my man?” said the doctor.

“Down in the hold, sir. You can hear him a-groaning!”

The doctor led the way down the open hatch; and I followed, to give him a push down, if he stuck fast, finding that there was something in the man’s alarm, for from out of the darkness came, every now and then, a deep, sighing groan.

“Why, there’s some one there!” cried the doctor.

“Here, quick, half a dozen of you!” I shouted, for an idea had just struck me; and, getting a lantern, I crept over some of the stores to where stood a row of casks, to one of which I traced the voice.

“Hallo!” I cried, tapping the cask; when there came a rustling noise from inside, and a tap or two seemed given by a hand.

“Found anything?” said the doctor, who had stuck fast between the stores and the deck.

“It’s a stowaway, I think,” I answered; and, creeping back, with the groans becoming more frequent, I gave orders, had some of the hatches taken off farther along the deck, and just over where the cask lay; and then, by means of some strong tackle, we hauled the cask out on deck, to find it only partly headed, and from out of it half slipped, half crawled, a pale, thin, ghastly looking young fellow, of about four or five-and-twenty.

“Why, it’s Smith!” exclaimed the doctor.

“Water – food!” gasped the poor wretch, lying prostrate on his side.

These were given him, and the doctor added some spirit, with the effect that the poor fellow began to revive, and at last sat up on the deck.

“And how did you get here?” I said.

“Got on board at night!” he gasped. “Crept into the cask – meant to get out – but packed in!”

“Did I not refuse you permission to come, sir?” cried the doctor, shaking his fist.

“Yes, uncle!” gasped the stowaway; “but Fanny said, if I didn’t come and take care of you, she – she would never – speak to me – any more! Oh, dear! please stop the ship! I feel so poorly!”

“It’s a wonder you were not starved to death,” said the doctor.

“Or smothered,” I said.

“Ye-yes,” stammered the poor fellow. “I was all right till they packed things all round me, and then I couldn’t get out!”

“Shall we put the ghost specimen in the spirit cask, doctor?” I said.

“Well, no,” he replied. “I think we’ll let him go down to the cabin. But you’d no business to come, Alfred, for you’ll only be in the way.”

“Oh, no, uncle,” he said, rapidly getting better, between the qualms produced by the rolling of the steamer; “I shall be a great help to you, uncle. I’ve brought my Alpenstock, a two-jointed one like a fishing-rod; and – and my ice-boots that I wore in Switzerland.”

“Bah!” said the doctor.

“And a climbing-rope.”

“Pish!” exclaimed the doctor again.

“And – a pair of snow-shoes.”

“Did you bring your skates, sir?”

“No, uncle; Fanny wanted me to, because she said I skated so beautifully; but I knew you had come on business, so I left them behind.”

The doctor gave me a fat smile, and I turned round to check Scudds, for fear he should laugh outright; and lucky I did, for he was just getting ready for a tremendous roar, while Abram Bostock held his hands over his mouth.

“Well, get below,” said the doctor; “and the sooner you find your sea-legs the better.”

So our new member of the exploring expedition crawled below, and we set to and trimmed sails, for the weather was changing, steam being reserved till we wanted it to go through the ice.

We did not get along very fast, for the doctor was always stopping the vessel for something, and the men soon fell in with his whims, and began to enjoy helping him. One day, they would be busy bucketing up water, for him to fill bottles with specimens of whales’ food; another time, we tried after a whale with a small gun and a harpoon fired from it, to the great delight of the men. Then we came in sight of the first iceberg, slowly sailing south, like a fairy castle on a fairy rock, that had broken away from its land in the North, and taken to the sea. The sun was shining upon it, and it was like one grand mass of turrets and spires, glistening with silver, gold, and gems of every colour. Here and there, it was split into great openings, with arches over them like bridges; and near the sea were more archways, leading like into caves, and all these places were of the most deep sapphire blue. All was so beautiful, that even the old salts like Abram and Scudds said they had never seen anything like it up North.

Of course, the doctor couldn’t pass it without landing; and as there were some seals and a few birds sitting on the farther side, I ran the steamer close in, till, in the still water on the lee, we were able to bring her close alongside of what was just like a natural wharf of ice; when Scudds and four more got on the berg, a couple of ice-anchors were passed over to them, and soon after we were made fast, and the doctor took a gun, his nephew followed, and we had a good climb along the wonderful sides of the iceberg.

“If we could only get on the top I wouldn’t mind,” said the doctor, after making half a dozen tries; but every one was a failure, for it was for all the world like climbing the side of a slippery board.

“Suppose you did get up, sir – what then?” I said.

“What then, Captain Cookson? Why, I could take observations; notice the structure of the ice; chip off specimens; but I suppose I must be disappointed.”

But he was not, for when toward evening we were sitting on deck, I said to him, “I suppose we may cast loose now, doctor, and get on?” there suddenly came a strange scraping noise, and a peculiar motion of the ship.

“Cut away those ice-cables!” I roared, running to get an axe, for I scented the danger.

But I was too late, and stopped paralysed, holding on by one of the shrouds! for I suddenly woke to the fact that in going close in to the visible part of the iceberg, we had sailed in over a part of it that was under water, and now the huge mass of ice having grown top-heavy, it was slowly rolling over, but fortunately away from us, though the result seemed to threaten destruction.

Almost before I knew where I was, the steamer began to sway over to starboard; then I saw that we were lifted out of the water; and as the men gave a cry of horror, we rose higher, and higher, and higher, as the great berg rolled slowly over till we were quite a couple of hundred feet in the air, perched on almost an even keel in a narrow V-marked valley, with the ice rising as high as the main yard on either side, and the little valley we were in running steeply down to the sea.

We all remained speechless, clinging to that which was nearest, and the motion made the doctor’s nephew exceedingly ill; but as for the doctor, he was standing note-book in hand, exclaiming, “Wonderful! Magnificent! Captain, I would not have missed such a phenomenon for the world!”

“Other world, you mean, sir!” I said, with a gasp of horror. “We shall never reach home again!”

“Nonsense, man,” he said. “Why, this ice will melt in less than a month, and let us down.”

“Or turn over the other way, and finish us off, sir!” I said, gloomily.

“Meanwhile, captain, I am up on the top of the iceberg, and can make my meteorological observations. Alfred, bring me the glaceoscope. Hang the fellow, he’s always poorly when I want him. Captain, will you oblige?”

I stood staring at him for a few moments, astonished at his coolness.

“The long brass instrument,” he said, “out of the case numbered four, in the cabin.”

I went and fetched the instrument, the men looking as much astounded as I was myself to see the doctor going coolly to work examining the structure of the ice, with its curious water-worn face. Then he seemed to be making measurements, and he ended by coming to us, rubbing his hands.

“Curious position, isn’t it!” he said, laughing. “By the way, captain, I should cast off those ice-anchors, in case the iceberg should make another turn. They might be the cause of mischief.”

“Cause of mischief! Hark at him!” said Abram. “When we’re perched two hundred foot up here in the air! Come on, lads.”

The ice-anchors were taken out of the holes that had been cut for them, and were got on board as we settled down for the night, no man feeling disposed to sleep; and all this while we were drifting slowly with the stream farther and farther south.

This went on for four days, and then, one night, I remember thinking, as I lay on deck, that could we be sure of the ice melting slowly at the top, and letting us down, we should be safe; but I knew that the bottom melted faster in the warm water, then the top grew heavier, and over it went again.

I tried very hard to keep awake in case of danger; but it was of no use, for I was worn out with watching, and at last I went off soundly to sleep, dreaming that I was drowned, and living in an ice cave, fish fashion, at the bottom of the sea, when I was awakened by Scudds, who shook me, crying, “Wake up, skipper! she’s a-going to launch herself!”

I jumped to my feet, to find the doctor on deck, lecturing his nephew about the launching of ships, and pointing out the gradual slope down of the ice valley in which we lay.

“She’s shifted two foot!” said Scudds. “I felt her move!”

“Batten down the hatches!” I roared, seeing what was coming; and as soon as this was done, and the ship made water-tight, I gave fresh orders for every man to lash himself fast to the shrouds and belaying-pins, while I myself secured the doctor and his nephew, neither of them seeing the slightest danger in what was to come.

Hardly had I done this, than there was a strange creaking, scratching noise, as of iron passing over ice; and then we felt that the vessel was in motion, gilding down the horrible precipice toward the sea.

At first she moved very slowly, but gathering speed, she glided faster and faster, till, with a rush like an avalanche, she darted down the great ice slide, stem first, till, at the bottom, where the iceberg ended abruptly in a precipice forty or fifty feet high, she shot right off, plunging her bowsprit the next instant in the water, and then all was darkness.

The sensation of the slide down was not unpleasant; the rush through the air was even agreeable; but to dart down into the depths of the ocean like some mighty whale, was awful. There was a strange roaring and singing in the ears; a feeling of oppression, as if miles of water were over one’s head; a sense of going down, down, down into the depths that were like ink; and then, by degrees, all grew lighter and lighter, till, with a dart like a diving-bird, the stout iron steamer sprang to the surface, rolled for a minute or two with the water streaming from her scuppers, and then floated easily on the sea, with the iceberg half a mile astern.

“Bravo! – bravo, captain! Capitally done!” cried the doctor. “As fine a bit of seamanship as ever I saw; but you need not have made us so wet!”

“Thanky, sir!” I said, for I was so taken aback and surprised that I didn’t know what to say, the more so that Abram Bostock, Scudds, and the rest of them took their tone from the doctor, nodded their heads, and said, “Very well done, indeed!”

I didn’t believe it at first, till I had had the pump well sounded; but the ship was quite right, and as sound as ever, so that half an hour after we had made sail, and were leaving the iceberg far behind.

It was some time before I could feel sure that it wasn’t all a dream; but the cool way in which the doctor took it all served to satisfy me, and I soon had enough to take up my attention in the management of the ship.

For the next fortnight we were sailing or steaming on past floating ice, with the greatest care needed to avoid collision or being run down. Then we had foul weather, rain, and fog, and snowstorm, and the season seeming to get colder and colder for quite another fortnight, when it suddenly changed, and we had bright skies, constant sunshine night and day, and steamed slowly on through the pack ice.

The doctor grew more confidential as we got on, telling me of the jealousy with which he had watched the discoveries of other men, and how, for years, he had determined that Curley and Pole should be linked together. He said that there was no doubt about the open Polar Sea, and that if we could once get through the pack ice into it, the rest of the task was easy.

“But suppose, when we’ve got up there, we get frozen in, doctor?” I said.

“Well, what then?” he answered. “We can wait, till we are thawed out.”

“Perhaps all dead,” I said.

“Pooh, my dear sir! No such thing. Freezing merely means a suspension of the faculties. I will give you an example soon.”

“Well, Binny,” said Abram slowly, after overhearing these words, “I don’t want my faculties suspended; that’s all I’ve got to say!”

The next day we were working our way through great canals of clear water, that meandered among the pack ice. There were great headlands on each side, covered with ice and snow, and the solitude seemed to grow awful, but the doctor kept us all busy. Now it was a seal hunt; then we were all off after a bear. Once or twice we had a reindeer hunt, and supplied the ship with fresh meat. Bird shooting, too, and fishing had their turn, so that it was quite a pleasure trip when the difficulties of the navigation left us free.