Seven Frozen Sailors

I’d got my knife in my teeth to cut the bush away, and let him free; but as I was swept against it my weight tore it away, and Hez and I went down the stream together; him so done up that he lay helpless on the water.

Something seemed to tell me to finish him off. A minute under water would have done it; but Jael’s face was before me, and at last I got to the other side, with her climbing along beside us; and if it hadn’t been for the hand she stretched down to me, I should never have crawled out with old Hez – I was that done.

As I dropped down panting on the rock, Jael came to my side, leaned over me, and kissed me, and I turned away, for the next moment she was trying hard, and bringing her husband to, and I was beginning to feel once more that I had been a fool.

I ain’t much more to tell, only that the flood went down ’most as quick as it had come up, and Hez got all right again with his broken arm, and did well. They wanted muchly to be friends; but I kep’ away. I felt as I’d been a fool to save him, and I was kinder shamed like of it; so I took off to ’Frisco, where, after chumming about, I took to going voyages to Panama and back, and the sea seemed to suit me like, and there I stuck to it; and one day a ship comes into ’frisco, where I was hanging ashore after a long drinking bout, and I heer’d as they wanted a man or two to fill up, because a couple had deserted to the diggings.

“Whar for?” I says to the officer.

“Discovering – up North,” he says.

“That’ll do,” I says. “I’m yer man; only I don’t think as you’ll get gold if you finds it, ’cause the water’ll all freeze when you wants to wash it.”

“We want to find the North Pole, my lad,” he says.

“And what’ll yer do with it when yer find it?” I says.

“The president wants it down in New York, to put in the big gardens, for the Great Bear to climb, if we can catch him, too.”

Wal, seeing as it promised plenty of amusement, I stuck to my bond, and went with them. And a fine time we had of shooting, and sledging, and exploring. We found the North Pole, after being away from the ship a month. One chap swore it was only the mast of a friz-up ship, sticking out of the ice; but skipper said it was the North Pole, and I cut a bit off with the saw. That’s a bit as I’m whittling.

We couldn’t get it out then, so we turned back to reach the ship, and get tackle to rig out and draw it; and while we was going back I turned so snoozy that, ’gainst orders, I lay down on the ice and went off bang to sleep. Ain’t seen anything of ’em, I ’spose?

“Well, no,” said the doctor, winking at us, as the Yankee whittled away, “I haven’t. You expect to see them again?”

“’Spect? Of course I do. They’ll come back to pull up the North Pole, and pick me up on the way. If they don’t I’ll show you where it lies.”

“Lies; yes, where it lies,” said the doctor. “Well, whereabouts does it lie?”

“Heigh-ho – yaw – aw – aw – hum?” went the Yankee, with the most awful yawn I ever heard; and then, as we looked, he seemed to go all at once into water – body, clothes, bones, and all – till there was nothing left before us but the knife and the bit of wood he had been whittling; and we shrank back, feeling all of a shiver, composed of equal parts of cold and fear.

I thought the doctor would have had a fit, he was so disappointed, and he stamped about the ice until he grew quite blue in the face.

“The last chance!” he cried – “the last chance!”

He did not know how true a prophet he was; for the next day, when we set to and searched for another specimen of suspended animation, not one could we find. We could not even hit upon one of the old elephants: nothing but ice – ice – ice everywhere; and, now that the stimulus of making strange discoveries was over, the men began to grumble.

“I don’t like the state of affairs, doctor,” I said. “I fear there’s mutiny on the way.”

“Why?” he said.

“The men are growing so discontented with their provisions; but hush, here they are.”

The doctor’s nephew was standing by me as the crew came up, looking fierce and angry.

“What’s the matter, my lads?” I said, when they all came close to me, and thrust their tongues in their cheeks.

“Look here, skipper,” said Binny Scudds, who seemed to be leader, “we’ve had enough of this here!”

“My good man,” – began the doctor.

“Now that’ll do, old skyantific!” cried Binny. “We’ve had enough of you. Who’s been doin’ nothin’ but waste good, wholesome sperrits, by stuffing black beadles, and dirty little fishes, and hinsecks in ’em, till there ain’t a drop fit to drink?”

“But, Scudds – ” I began.

“That’ll do!” he shouted fiercely; and he threatened me with an ice pick. “We’ve had enough of it, I tell yer!”

“Look here, my man,” said the doctor; and his nephew got behind him.

“Yes, and look here,” said Scudds. “You want to diskiver the North Pole, don’t yer?”

“Well, you are very impertinent, my man,” said the doctor; “but, yes. I do.”

“Then you shall diskiver it along o’ the skipper, and young stowaway there.”

“And what will you do?” said the doctor.

“Oh,” said Scudds, “me, and Borstick, and my mates is agoin’ back. We’ve had enough of it, I tell yer.”

“But how are we to go on without you?” said the doctor.

“I’ll show yer,” said Scudds. “Now mates!”

To my intense horror, and in spite of my struggles, they seized us all three; and then, with a lot of laughing and cheering, they brought up some pieces of rope, and three good-sized blocks of ice.

“What are you going to do, scoundels?” I shrieked.

“Well,” said Scudds, grinning, “my mates and me’s of opinion that the North Pole is down in the hole, and we’re agoin’ to send you three there to see.”

“But it’s murder!” I cried.

“It’s in the service of science,” said the doctor, blandly. “We shall make great discoveries. You won’t mind, Alfred?” he said, to his nephew.

“I should have been delighted, uncle, if I had only procured my skates,” said the young fellow.

“These here’s better than skates,” said Scudds, grinning; and, to my extreme horror, they bound the young man to a block of ice, carried it to the edge of the crater, gave it a slight push, and away it went down, and down, rapidly gliding till it entered the dark mist toward the bottom.

“He’ll discover it first,” said the doctor, calmly.

“But no one will know,” I said, bitterly.

“We may get up again first,” he said, radiantly, as the men tied him on in his turn.

“Good luck to you, if you do,” said Scudds, grinning, as he tied the last knot binding the stout old fellow to the second block of ice.

“Au revoir, Captain!” said the doctor, smiling; and then they pushed him on to the inclined way, and he glided off, waving his hand as he went, till he was nearly half-way down, and then the crew seized me.

“Not without a struggle!” I said; and seizing an iron bar used for breaking ice, I laid about me, knocking one fellow after another down, and sending them gliding over the sides of the awful gulf, till only Scudds remained behind.

“Not yet, skipper!” he cried, avoiding my blow, and springing at my throat – “not yet;” and the next minute we were engaged in a desperate struggle, each trying with all his might to get the other to the edge of that awful slope, and hurl him down.

Twice he had me on the brink and his savage look seemed to chill my blood; but with an effort I wrenched myself away, and prolonged the struggle, getting the better of him, till, filled with the same savage thoughts as he, I got him right to the edge.

“Not yet, skipper – not yet!” he exclaimed; and then, allowing himself to fall, he drew me, as it were, over his head, and the next moment I was hanging upon the icy slope, holding on only by one of his hands, and vainly trying to get a footing, for my feet kept gliding away.

“You villain, you shall die with me!” I cried, clinging tenaciously to his hand to drag him down, too, but he looked down laughingly at me.

“I shall go back and say I found the North Pole all by myself!” he cried, with a hideous grin; and then, apparently without an effort, he shook me off, and I began to glide down, down, down, into the horrible black mist below me!

As I glided over the ice, which was wonderfully smooth, my rate of progress grew each moment more rapid, till it was like lightning in its speed. I fancied I heard Scudds’ mocking laugh; but it was far distant, and now I was nearing the mist each moment, and instead of cold I could feel a strange burning sensation in my head.

“What of those gone before?” I asked myself, as I slid on at lightning speed. “Have they been dashed to pieces, or have they plunged into some horrible abyss? Yes, that must be it,” I thought, for now I was through the mist, and speeding on to what looked like the hole of the great funnel, down which I was hurried.

The sensation was not unpleasant, but for the heat, and, moved now by curiosity, I struggled into a sitting position; then, feet first, I skimmed on, and on, and on, till right before me there seemed to be an edge, over which I slid into intense darkness; ever going on down, down, down, with the noise of wind rushing by me as I fell, till my head spun round; then there was a strange sensation of giddy drowsiness; and, lastly, all was blank.

“Yes, he’ll do now,” said a familiar voice. “He’s getting on. Head beautifully cool.”

“Eh?” I said, staring at the speaker.

“Well, skipper, that was a narrow touch for you, I thought once you were gone.”

“So did I,” was my reply; “but how did you and Bostock get out?”

“Wandering a little still,” said the doctor, in a whisper to Bostock. “Get out?” he said aloud. “Oh, easily enough.”

“But, but,” I said, faintly, holding my hand to my head – “that horrible crater!”

“Lie still, my dear captain,” he said, “and don’t worry. You’ll be stronger in a day or two.”

“But tell me!” I said, appealingly.

“Well, there’s little to tell,” he said, smiling. “Only that you pitched head first twenty feet down the slope of that iceberg three weeks ago, and you’ve been in a raging fever ever since.”

“Then the overturning of the iceberg – the dive of the steamer – the seven frozen sailors – the crater?”

“My dear fellow,” he said, gently, “you’ve been delirious, and your head evidently is not quite right yet. There, drink that.”

I took what he gave me, and sank into a deep sleep, from which I awoke much refreshed, and by degrees I learned that I had slipped while we were on the beautiful iceberg, and had a very narrow escape of my life; that, far from walking back to the steamer, and sitting on the deck to hear a scraping noise, I had been carried carefully on board by Bostock and Scudds. Imagination did the rest.

I need not continue our adventures in our real voyage, for they were very uneventful. The doctor got some nice specimens and thoroughly enjoyed his trip; but we were stopped on all sides by the ice, and at last had to return, loaded with oil and preserved natural history matters, after what the doctor called the pleasantest trip he had ever had.

But, all the same, it would have been very interesting if the Seven Frozen Sailors had really been thawed out to give us forth their yarns – of course always excepting the rush down into the misty crater. However, here are their stories, told by seven pens, and may they make pleasant many a fireside.