THE LANDING
The ice among the inlets on the American side of the North Pacific broke
up unusually early when spring came round again, and several weeks
before Wyllard had expected it the _Selache_ floated clear. The crew had
suffered little during the bitter winter, for Dampier had kept the men
busy splicing gear and patching sails, and they had fitted the schooner
with a new mainmast hewn out of a small cedar. None of the sailors had
been trained as carpenters, but men who keep the sea for months in small
vessels are necessarily handy at repairs, and they had all used ax and
saw to some purpose in their time.
Wyllard was satisfied when they thrashed the _Selache_ out of the inlet
under whole mainsail in a fresh breeze, and when evening came he sat
smoking near the wheel. He was in a contemplative mood as the climbing
forests and snow-clad heights dropped back astern. He wondered what his
friends were doing upon the prairie, and whether Agatha had married
Gregory yet. It seemed to him that it was, at least, possible that
Agatha was married, for she was one to keep a promise, and it was
difficult to believe that Gregory would fail to press his claim.
Wyllard's face grew grim as he thought of it, though this was a thing he
had done more or less constantly during the winter. He fancied that he
might have ousted Gregory if he had remained at the Range, for perhaps
unconsciously Agatha had shown him that she was not quite indifferent to
him; but that would have been to involve her in a breach of faith which
she would probably always have looked back on with regret. In any case
he could not have stayed to press his suit. He knew that he would never
forget her, but it was not impossible that she might forget him. He
realized also, though this was not by comparison a matter of great
consequence, that the Range was scarcely likely to prosper under
Gregory's management, but that could not be helped, and after all he
owed Gregory something. It never occurred to him that he was doing an
extravagant thing in setting out upon the search that he had undertaken.
He felt that the obligation was laid upon him, and, being what he was,
he could not shrink from it.
A puff of spray that blew into his face disturbed his meditations, and
when a little tumbling sea splashed in over the weather bow, he helped
the others to haul down a reef in the mainsail. That accomplished, he
went below and brought out a well-worn chart. The _Selache_ drove away
to the westwards over a white-flecked sea. This time she carried fresh
southerly breezes with her most of the way across the Pacific, and
plunged along hove down under the last piece of canvas they dared to set
upon her until at last they ran into the fog close in to the Kamtchatkan
beaches. Then the wind dropped, and they were baffled by light and
fitful breezes, while it became evident that there was ice about.
The day they saw the first big mass of ice gleaming broad across their
course on a raw green sea, Dampier got an observation, and they held a
brief council in the little cabin that evening. The schooner was hove to
then, and lay rolling with banging blocks and thrashing canvas on a
sluggish heave of sea.
"Thirty miles off shore," announced Dampier. "If it had been clear
enough we'd have seen the top of the big range quite a way further out
to sea. Now, it's drift ice ahead of us, but it's quite likely there's a
solid block along the beach. Winter holds on a long while in this
country. I guess you're for pushing on as fast as you can?"
Wyllard nodded. "Of course," he said, "you'll look for an opening, and
work her in as far as possible. Then, if it's necessary, Charly and I
and another man will take the sled and head for the beach across the
ice. If there's a lane anywhere I would, however, probably take the
smallest boat. We might haul her a league or two, anyway, on the sled if
the ice wasn't very rough."
He looked at Charly, who acquiesced.
"Well," Charly observed simply, "I guess I'll have to see you through.
Now we've made a sled for her I'd take the boat, anyway. We're quite
likely to strike a big streak of water when the ice is breaking up."
"There's one other course," declared Dampier; "the sensible one, and
that's to wait until it has gone altogether. Seems to me I ought to
mention it, though it's not likely to appeal to you."
Wyllard laughed. "From all appearances we might wait a month. I don't
want to stay up here any longer than is strictly necessary."
"You'll head north?"
"That's my intention."
"Then," said Dampier, pointing to the chart before them, "as you should
make the beach in the next day or two I'll head for the inlet here. As
it's not very far you won't have to pack so many provisions along, and
I'll give you, say, three weeks to turn up in. If you don't, I'll figure
that there's something wrong, and do what seems advisable."
They agreed to that, and when next morning a little breeze came out of
the creeping haze, they sailed the _Selache_ slowly shorewards among the
drifting ice until, at nightfall, an apparently impenetrable barrier
stretched gleaming faintly ahead of them. Wyllard turned in soon
afterwards and slept soundly. All his preparations had been made during
the winter and there was no occasion for new plans. When morning broke
he breakfasted before he went out on deck. The boat was already packed
with provisions, sleeping-bags, a tent, and two light sled frames, on
one of which it seemed possible that they might haul her a few miles.
She was very light and small, and had been built for such a purpose as
they had in view.
The schooner lay to with backed fore-staysail tumbling wildly on a dim,
gray sea. Half a mile away the ice ran back into a dingy haze, and there
was a low, gray sky to weather. Now and then a fine sprinkle of snow
slid across the water before a nipping breeze. As Wyllard glanced to
windward Dampier strode up to him.
"I guess you'd better put it off," he said. "I don't like the weather;
we'll have wind before long."
Wyllard smiled, and Dampier made a forceful gesture.
"Then," he advised, "I'd get on to the ice just as soon as possible.
You're still quite a way off the beach."
Wyllard shook hands with him. "We should make the inlet in about nine
days, and if I don't turn up in three weeks you'll know there's
something wrong," he said. "If there's no sign of me in another week you
can take her home again."
Dampier, who made no further comment, bade them swing the boat over, and
when she lay heaving beneath the rail Wyllard and Charly and one Indian
dropped into her. It was only a preliminary search they were about to
engage in, for they had decided that if they found nothing they would
afterwards push further north or inland when they had supplied
themselves with fresh stores from the schooner.
They gazed at the _Selache_ with grim faces as they pulled away, and
Wyllard, who loosed his oar a moment to wave his fur cap when Dampier
stood upon her rail, was glad when a fresher rush of the bitter breeze
forced him to fix his attention on his task. The boat was heavily
loaded, and the tops of the gray seas splashed unpleasantly close about
her gunwale. She was running before them, rising sharply, and dropping
down into the hollows, out of sight of all but the schooner's canvas,
and though this made rowing easier, Wyllard was apprehensive of
difficulties when he reached the ice.
His misgivings proved warranted, for the ice presented an almost
unbroken wall against the face of which the sea spouted. There was no
doubt as to what would happen if the frail craft was hurled upon that
frozen mass, and Wyllard, who was sculling, fancied that before the boat
could even reach it, there was a probability of her being swamped in the
upheaval where the backwash met the oncoming sea. Charly looked at him
dubiously.
"It's a sure thing we can't get out there," Charly observed.
Wyllard nodded. "Then," he said, "we'll pull along the edge of it until
we find an opening or something to make a lee. The sea's higher than it
seemed to be from the schooner."
"We've got to do it soon," Charly declared. "There's more wind not far
away."
Wyllard dipped his oar again, and for an hour they pulled along the edge
of the ice, for there were now little frothing white tops on the seas.
It was evident that the wind was freshening, and at times a deluge of
icy water slopped in over the gunwale. The men were hampered by their
furs, and the stores lying about their feet.
The perspiration dripped from Wyllard when they approached a ragged,
jutting point. It did not seem advisable to attempt a landing on that
side of it, and when a little snow began to fall he looked at his
companions.
"I guess we've got to pull her out," said Charly. "Dampier's heaving a
reef down; he sees what's working up to windward."
Wyllard could barely make out the schooner, which had apparently
followed them, a blur of dusky canvas against a bank of haze, and then
as the boat slid down into a hollow there was nothing but the low-hung,
lowering sky. It was evident to him that if they were to make a landing
it must be done promptly.
"We'll pull around the point first, anyway," he decided.
A shower of fine snow that blotted out the schooner broke upon them, and
the work was arduous. They were pulling to windward now, and it was
necessary to watch the seas that ranged up ahead and to handle the boat
circumspectly while the freshening breeze blew the spray over them. They
had to fight for every fathom, and once or twice the little craft nearly
rolled over with them. It became apparent by degrees that, as they could
not have reached the schooner had they attempted it, they were pulling
for their lives, and that the one way of escape open to them was to find
an egress of some kind around the point, the ragged tongue of which was
horribly close to lee of them. When the snow cleared for a minute or
two, they saw that Dampier had driven the _Selache_ further off the ice.
The schooner was hove to now, and there was a black figure high up in
her shrouds.
A bitter rush of wind hurled the spray about them, and the boat fell off
almost beam-on to the sea, in spite of all that they could do. The icy
brine washed into the boat, and it seemed almost certain that she would
swamp or roll over before they could get way on her. Still, pulling
desperately, they drove her around the point. Gasping and dripping they
made their last effort. A sea rolled up ahead, and as the boat swung up
with it Wyllard had a momentary glimpse of an opening not far away. He
shouted to his companions, but could not tell whether they heard and
understood him, for after that he was conscious only of rowing savagely
until another sea broke into the boat and she struck. There was a crash,
and she swung clear with the backwash, with all one side smashed in.
Then she swung in again just beyond a tongue of ice over which the froth
was pouring tumultuously, and the Indian jumped from the bow. He had the
painter with him, and for half a minute, standing in the foam, he held
the boat somehow, while they hurled a few of the carefully made-up
packages that composed her important freight as far on to the ice as
possible.
As Wyllard, who seized one sled frame, jumped, the disabled boat rolled
over. He landed on his hands and knees, but in another moment he was on
his feet, and he and the Indian clutched at Charly, who drove towards
them amid a long wash of foam. They dragged him clear, and as he stood
up dripping without his cap a sudden haze of snow whirled about them.
There was no sign of the schooner, and they could scarcely see the
broken ice some sixty yards away. They had made the landing, wet
through, with about half their stores, and it was evident that their
boat would not carry them across the narrowest lane of water, even if
they could have recovered her. The sea rumbled along the edge of the
ice, and they could not tell whether the frozen wall extended as far as
the beach. They looked at one another until Wyllard spoke.
"We have got the hand-sled, and some, at least, of the things," he said.
"The sooner we start for the beach the sooner we'll get there."
It was a relief to load the sled, and when that was done they put
themselves into the hide traces and set off across the ice. Their
traveling was arduous work apart from the hauling of the load, for the
ice was rough and broken, and covered for the most part with softening
snow. They had only gum-boots with soft hide moccasins under them, for
snow-shoes are used only in Eastern Canada, and it takes one a long
while to learn to walk on them.
Sometimes the three men sank almost knee-deep, sometimes they slipped
and scrambled on uncovered ledges, but they pushed on with the sled
bouncing and sliding unevenly behind them, until the afternoon had
almost gone.
They set up the wet tent behind a hummock, and crouched inside it upon a
ground-sheet, while Charly boiled a kettle on the little oil blast
stove. The wind hurled the snow upon the straining canvas, which stood
the buffeting. When they had eaten a simple meal Charly put the stove
out and the darkness was not broken except when one of them struck a
match to light his pipe. They had but one strip of rubber sheeting
between them and the snow, for the water had gotten into the sleeping
bags. Their clothes dried upon them with the heat of their bodies. They
said nothing for a while, and Wyllard was half asleep when Charly spoke.
"I've been thinking about that boat," he remarked. "Though I don't know
that we could have done it, we ought to have tried to pull her out."
"Why?" asked Wyllard. "She'd have been all to pieces, anyway.
"I'm figuring it out like this. If Dampier wasn't up in the shrouds when
we made the landing he'd sent somebody. We could see him up against the
sky, but we'd be much less clear to him low down with the ice and the
surf about us. Besides, it was snowing quite fast then. Well, I don't
know what Dampier saw, but I guess he'd have made out that we hadn't
hauled the boat up, anyway. The trouble is that with the wind freshening
and it getting thick he'd have to thrash the schooner out and lie to
until it cleared. When he runs in again it's quite likely that he'll
find the boat and an oar or two. Seems to me that's going to worry him
considerable."
Wyllard, drowsy as he was, agreed with this view of the matter. He
realized that it would have been quite impossible for Dampier to send
them any assistance, and it was merely a question whether they should
retrace their steps to the edge of the ice next morning and make him
some signal. Against this there was the strong probability that he would
not run in, if the gale and snow continued, and the fact that it was
desirable to make the beach as soon as possible in case the ice broke up
before they reached it. What was rather more to the purpose, Wyllard was
quietly determined on pushing on.
"It can't be helped," he said simply. "We'll start for the beach as soon
as it's daylight."
Charly made no answer, and the brawny, dark-skinned Siwash, who spoke
English reasonably well, merely grunted. Unless it seemed necessary, he
seldom said anything at all. Bred to the sea, and living on the seal and
salmon, an additional hazard or two or an extra strain on his tough body
did not count for much with him. He had been accustomed to sleep wet
through with icy water, and to crouch for hours with numbed hands
clenched on the steering-paddle while the long sea canoe scudded
furiously over the big combers before bitter gale or driving snow.
Wyllard, who rolled over, pulled a wet sleeping-bag across him, and
after that there was silence in the little rocking tent.
* * * * *
Charly's deductions had been proved correct, for when the breeze
freshened Dampier climbed into the shrouds. He had noticed the ominous
blackness to windward, and he knew what it meant. That was why he had
hauled down a reef in the schooner's mainsail, and now kept the vessel
out a little from the ice. As the light faded he found it very difficult
to see the boat against the white wash of the seas that recoiled from
the ice, but when the snow was whirling about him he decided that she
was in some peril unless her crew could pull her around the point. It
was evident that this would be a difficult matter, though he had only an
occasional glimpse of her now. He waved an arm to the helmsman, who
understood that he was to run the schooner in. There was a rattle of
blocks as the booms swung out, and as the _Selache_ sped away before the
rapidly freshening breeze it seemed to Dampier that he saw the boat
hurled upon the ice. A blinding haze of snow suddenly shut out
everything, and the skipper hastened down to the deck. He stood beside
the wheel for several minutes. Gazing forward, he could see nothing
except the filmy whiteness and the tops of the seas that had steadily
been getting steeper. The schooner was driving furiously down upon the
ice, but it was evident that to send Wyllard any assistance was utterly
beyond his power. He could have hove to the schooner while he got the
bigger boat over, and two men might have pulled towards the ice with the
breeze astern of them, but it was perfectly clear that they could have
neither made a landing nor have pulled her back again. It was also
uncertain whether he and the other man could have brought the schooner
round or have gotten more sail off her. He stood still until they heard
the wash of the sea upon the ice close to lee of them, and then it was a
hard-clenched hand he raised in sign to the helmsman.
"On the wind! Haul lee sheets!" he commanded.
The _Selache_ came round a little, heading off the ice, and when she
drove away with the foam seething white beneath one depressed rail and
the spray whirling high about her plunging bows, there was a tense look
in the white men's faces as they gazed into the thickening white haze to
lee of her. They thrashed her out until Dampier decided that there was
sufficient water between him and the ice, and then stripped most of the
sail off her, and she lay to until next morning, when they once more got
sail on her and ran in again. The breeze had fallen a little, it was
rather clearer, and they picked up the point, though it had somewhat
changed its shape. They got a boat over, and the two men who went off in
her found a few broken planks, a couple of oars, and Charly's cap
washing up and down in the surf. They had very little doubt as to what
that meant.