AT SEA IN KAYACKS
When Dick and Sandy sighted the dog team of what they believed to be the
“white Eskimo,” it could not have been more than a half a mile away,
though distances in the north are deceptive.
“We ought to catch up with them in twenty minutes,” Constable Sloan had
said.
But they were not so fortunate. Either the “white Eskimo” had seen his
pursuers and was therefore driving faster, or his dogs were faster at a
normal pace of travel than the police dogs. At any rate, after thirty
minutes, fast driving they were bumping along over a rough ice floor,
the team ahead nowhere in sight.
“It can’t be far to the sea shore now, can it?” panted Sandy.
“No,” Dick replied, “we are probably traveling across a frozen bay now.
The ice may be hundreds of feet thick here, you know, and the sun never
gets warm enough to melt that much ice.”
“It takes awfully cold weather to freeze salt water,” Sandy opined.
“I should say it does!” agreed Dick emphatically, “but you know most of
the ice around here is from old glaciers, and is fresh water ice. The
glaciers slide down to the sea shore and break off, making ice-bergs and
huge ice floes.”
“Hey! Look out!” Sandy’s cry of warning came too late. Dick had been so
interested in his explanation of the ice formations that he had not
noticed how close he was to a treacherous slope of glassy ice. He
slipped, and before he could catch himself he had whizzed down, flat on
his back, to come up with a bump in a hard snowdrift at the bottom of
the slope.
“Are you hurt?” called Sandy anxiously, as Dick crawled out of the snow,
sat up and began shaking himself.
“No, but I’ve got my parka full of snow,” Dick called back, “and it’s
not a very pleasant feeling with melted snow trickling down your chest.”
The policemen had stopped upon seeing Dick’s accident, and they now
waited until he had climbed back up the slippery slope before they went
on.
Dick was not much the worse for the spill in the snow, since the heat of
his body under the warm clothing soon dried up the snow that had seeped
in. He forgot the accident in anticipation of the excitement ahead, for
at any moment all hands expected to sight the dog team of Fred Mistak.
A breeze had sprung up, blowing in their faces, and they all could feel
the nearness of the sea by the dampness in the air. Then, suddenly, they
rounded a huge heap of snow-covered ice to come upon a vast bay of open
water and a most discouraging sight. A mile out to sea, in native boats,
they could see their quarry vanishing toward a snow-capped, rocky
island.
Even as they watched they saw one tiny figure raise up and wave a
defiant hand at them.
“Well, he’s flown the coop this time,” said Corporal McCarthy through
his teeth, “but we’re not beaten yet—not by a long shot. Sloan, bring
Sipsa here.”
Dick and Sandy followed the Constable and the Eskimo guide to Corporal
McCarthy’s side.
“Tell Sipsa we must get Eskimo boats immediately,” was the policeman’s
command. “Enough boats to carry all of us along with our provisions,
dogs, and sledges.”
When Sloan had explained this to Sipsa, the Eskimo shook his head at
first, but finally seemed to offer some encouragement.
“He says he’s not sure he can find any Eskimos very near here,” Sloan
turned to Corporal McCarthy. “But he’ll try. He says we’ll have to take
a chance following the coast line.”
“Alright, then, we’ll take the chance. We’ve got to have boats.”
But luck was with them, for they had not gone on a mile when they came
upon a dozen igloos in a sheltered nook. The tribesmen were at sea,
hunting seals, and the women were scattered along the shore skinning and
cutting up the meat.
“We are in luck in some ways,” called Constable Sloan, cheerfully, as
they drew up at the igloos. “Now if we can only trade these fellows out
of a few native boats, we’ll be luckier still. Here comes a couple of
men.”
The two Eskimos approaching from the beach, were evidently not at all
afraid of the white men, for they came up smiling, perfectly unconscious
that they put forth a bad appearance with their clothing covered with
seal blubber, grease and blood.
Sipsa immediately began talking with them, Sloan permitting him to do
the dickering for the boats.
When the policemen had opened one of the packs and revealed some fine,
shiney knives, kettles, and axes, the Eskimos became greatly interested,
and one of them ran off to call the rest of the tribe.
Presently they were all down at the sea shore looking over the native
boats, or kayacks. Corporal McCarthy picked out one serviceable looking
kayack, and two umiacks, or large boats, for the dogs and supplies. The
kayack was about twenty feet long and twenty inches wide, covered with
water proofed skins, and made to seat one person in a hole in the
center, over which was a flap that could be buttoned around the chin,
making the boat almost water tight, even though it were capsized. The
umiacks were, however, flat-bottomed, hollow, and were ordinarily used
in transporting women, children, and household goods by water. Corporal
McCarthy gave the Eskimo owners a large collection of knives, pots and
hatchets for the boats and they seemed very well pleased with the trade.
“I’ll take the kayack,” instructed Corporal McCarthy. “Sloan, you and
the Indian lad take one of the umiacks and Dick, Sandy, and Sipsa the
other. If we get a move on we can get our equipment loaded before Mistak
gets too much of a start. He took his dogs so we’ll have to take ours.”
Not more than a half hour later Dick and Sandy and the Eskimo guide put
to sea in their umiack, a crude sail of caribou hide stiffening in the
breeze, while they plied a paddle to add to their speed. Constable Sloan
and Toma followed immediately in the other umiack, while the Corporal
settled himself in the kayack, the last of the three.
Corporal McCarthy soon passed the heavily loaded umiacks in his faster
and lighter boat and signaled them to follow him.
“Watch out for the ice bergs and floes,” called the corporal. “If you
see a walrus, don’t shoot unless you’re attacked.”
The three boats strung out in a line headed toward the glacial island
where they believed Mistak would land. In Dick and Sandy’s boat were
half the dogs and the two sledges, along with the stoves and liquid
fuel. It was a heavy load for the unwieldy umiack, and Dick was not long
in discovering that the dangers in arctic navigation were not to be
scoffed at. Though from a distance the water seemed free from ice, close
at hand the bergs could be seen rolling along, either submerged, or just
above the water. Sipsa took a position in the prow of the umiack, where,
with a long pole, he fended off the larger ice blocks. In the stern Dick
plied a paddle, while in the center Sandy took care of the dogs and saw
that the cargo did not slip to one side and capsize the craft.
All went well until they reached rougher water a quarter mile from the
shore. Here an ocean current carried them eastward in spite of all they
could do. Sandy fashioned himself a paddle from a snow shoe covered with
a piece of seal skin, and did all he could to help Dick in the uneven
struggle, but they moved steadily eastward toward a low headland that
marked that boundary of the bay. The island that was their destination
now lay several miles northwest of them, and a floe separated the two
umiacks. Corporal McCarthy was having all he could do to manage his
kayack, which was being considerably buffeted about by the waves and
ice.
“Maybe we’ll strike another current when we get close to that headland
east of us,” called Dick from the stern.
“I hope so,” replied Sandy dubiously. “This sail isn’t doing us much
good now though. The wind seems to have gone down suddenly.”
At that moment Sipsa, the Eskimo guide, rammed his pole at a submerged
ice berg, and the pole slipped down into the water, forcing Sipsa to
lose his balance.
Dick’s cry of warning did no good. The Eskimo did the best he could to
keep his balance, then toppled head foremost into the chilly water.
“Quick, help him in, Sandy!” cried Dick, “while I hold the boat as
steady as I can.”
Sandy dropped his paddle and hurried to the prow where Sipsa was
struggling about in the water. The Eskimo still retained a tight grip on
his pole, which had been the cause of his fall, and Sandy got a grip on
this. Soon Sipsa crawled, gasping and gurgling, into the umiack.
“Whew, close shave that!” exclaimed Sandy.
“And maybe he’ll freeze to death from that wetting,” Dick added. “Sandy,
you’d better get one of the heaters started so he can dry off.”
But Sipsa, hardy Eskimo that he was, made it known, by various signs,
that he needed no heater, and took up his former position as if nothing
had happened. While the ducking might have been fatal for Dick or Sandy,
it meant little to the guide since the season was what he called summer.
Once off the headland the current swept them northward as they had
hoped, and also a breeze sprang up from the open sea. The sail filled
and they began to make time toward the island. The floe which had
separated the umiacks had passed on and Dick and Sandy could see Toma
and Constable Sloan coming along safely a quarter mile behind. Corporal
McCarthy was within speaking distance again and his voice boomed out
over the water.
“Watch out for walrus! There’s a big bull in here somewhere. Steer clear
of him if you can.”
The moment was a tense one for Dick and Sandy. Many a story they had
heard of these giant inhabitants of the Polar Sea, and to meet one in
his native haunts was something they feared, yet hoped to experience.
Dick’s eyes were fixed upon the water near at hand when something dark
welled up out of the clear blue depths and shot past the boat.
“There he is!” he cried.
“Sure it was a walrus?” Sandy hazarded breathlessly.
“It must have been. It had big flippers and I think I saw tusks like an
elephant’s.”
“Maybe it was your imagination.”
But what happened next assured Sandy that Dick had not been using his
imagination. A dark form heaved up out of the water almost under Sipsa’s
ice pole. The umiack rocked dangerously and nearly upset the Eskimo. The
boys got a clear look at the walrus this time for just a moment as the
huge creature reared out of the water and looked at them before it sunk
out of sight in a whirlpool of bubbles.
Sandy snatched up his rifle, but Dick warned him to hold fire until it
was absolutely necessary.
“Was that the walrus?” called Corporal McCarthy backing water with his
paddle.
“You bet it was,” Dick shouted, “and if he’d been two feet nearer he’d
have turned us over—hey!”
Dick said no more for at that instant the umiack, with its heavy load,
was hoisted upward out of the water from the impact of a powerful body
underneath. Sipsa tumbled backward from the prow, falling in among the
whimpering dogs. Sandy and Dick clung to their seats while the boat
dropped back to the water with a heave and splash. Fortunately, the
umiack settled to an even keel without taking in too much water. But
scarcely had they recovered from the nearly disastrous effects of the
walrus’s first attack, when Sipsa shouted a warning from the stern.
“There he is again—coming at us from the front!” shouted Sandy, throwing
up his rifle as Dick snatched up his own.
As Dick took aim at the rushing mass of fur, tusks, and flippers, he saw
Corporal McCarthy level his rifle from the kayack. The three rifles
boomed almost as one. The walrus, hit hard, swerved and rolled in his
mad attack, and in a whirl of water sank out of sight, leaving a red
blot in the water behind him.
“He’s been wounded badly, if not killed,” said Sandy pointing at the
blood in the water.
“I hope he’ll leave us alone anyway, but if he don’t——” Dick tightened
his grip on his rifle.
For several minutes they watched, guns ready, for a renewal of the bull
walrus’s attack, but the water disclosed no angry monster.
“I guess he’s had enough,” called Corporal McCarthy, “let’s get going.
Do you see what’s coming up from the east?”
Dick and Sandy looked as the policeman directed, and their hearts jumped
as if a hundred walruses were bearing down upon them, for, not a mile
distant, a dense Arctic fog was floating swiftly toward them, like a
wall of gray smoke.
“A fog!” cried Dick. “Get that paddle, Sandy! If we ever get caught in
that fog we’ll be lost sure!”