CAST AWAY IN THE ICE
Poor Stults had indeed gotten into difficulty, but not with the two
remaining bears.
In running off to save himself, he had missed the path back to the ship
and floundered headlong into a crack in the iceberg.
The crack was shaped like the letter V and was all of ten feet wide at
the top and twenty-five or thirty feet deep.
Poor Stults was now lying at the bottom of the crack, wedged in so
tightly that he could scarcely move.
“Hi, Stults! Where are you?” called out Bob, as he drew close to the
spot.
“Hellup!” came from the German cook. “Hellup, udder I vos froze to
death alretty!”
“Where are you?”
“Py der bottom of der hole town! Vos dot you, Pob?”
“Yes.”
“Den git von rope and pull me owt kvick!”
“Are you in that crack?”
“Yah, dot’s me, and I vos sthuck so fast like neffer vos.”
Bob gave a hasty glance around and saw that no bears were within
several hundred yards of the spot. Then he threw himself flat and
crawled to the edge of the crevasse. Peering over he could just make
out the huddled-up form below.
“Are you holding fast?” he asked.
“Holdin’ fast! Mine cracious, I ton’t haf to hold fast. Didn’t I told
you I vos sthuck so fast like a fly on der fly-baber? Git a rope and
bull me out, dot’s a goot poy, Pob!”
By this time Barry was coming up on a slow walk, bound to do what he
could for his friends, should they prove to be in trouble.
“What are you doing there, Bob?”
“Stults is down there--stuck fast in the crack. He wants us to haul him
out.”
“Then there are no bears around?”
“I don’t see any.”
Luckily the party had brought with them a rope, to be used in hauling
any game they might bring down back to the ship. This was now produced,
and one end was lowered into the crevasse.
“Catch hold, down there!” cried Bob.
“Hold of vot?” panted the German cook.
“Hold of the rope. I’ve tied a noose on the end. Put that under your
arms and we’ll haul you out.”
But, as said before, Stults had gone into the crack head first.
Consequently to get hold of the noose, much less to place it under his
arms, was out of the question.
“I can’t git hold!” he cried, after a struggle.
“You must!” called Bob. “It’s the only way we can help you. It will
take both of us to haul you up.”
Poor Stults floundered around for several minutes. The sides of the
opening were like glass and to get a purchase anywhere was impossible.
At last, however, he called upon them to haul away.
“I can’t do much,” sighed Barry. “That bear took all the strength out
of me.”
Yet he took hold and did what he could, and between them they hauled
their living burden to the top of the crevasse.
When Bob caught sight of the German cook he let out a roar of laughter.
Stults had been unable to get hold of the rope with his hands and so
had done some fishing with his feet.
One foot had caught in the noose, and now he came up feet first
with the rope around his left ankle and his body stretched out in
spread-eagle fashion.
“Hurrah! he’s saved by a leg!” cried Bob.
“Yah, I vos safed, but I ton’t feel so goot as before I vent dot hole
town,” said the cook, ruefully.
“You can be thankful you didn’t drop clean out of sight, under this
iceberg,” said Bob.
“And that no bones were broken,” added Barry.
Stults wanted to know all about the three polar bears. He was very much
ashamed over having run away at the critical moment.
“Put I dinks me ve vos all going to get chewed up alretty!” he
explained. “Von of dose pears opened his mouth and I vos seen clear
town into his stomach!”
As soon as the excitement was over and Barry and Stults felt like
moving, the three walked back to where the dead bear lay. As they
proceeded they kept their eyes and ears open for a sight of more game,
but not a living thing appeared anywhere around them.
“The shooting has scared them off,” said Barry. “But even one bear is a
good haul. It will mean fresh meat for a week or more for all hands.”
“If it doesn’t prove as strong and tough as old bull meat,” answered
Bob.
“We can make it tender by freezing it for a few days.”
“Yah, dot is it,” put in Stults. “Dot ist der vay ve do mit all boultry
in der Fadderlandt.”
When they arrived at the place where they had left the bear, they found
the game undisturbed.
“Dot’s goot meat!” cried the cook, after an inspection. “I like me von
steak from dot.”
“Yes, a bear steak won’t go bad,” put in Bob. “It will----”
The youth stopped short. A strange grinding noise had reached their
ears. Now the iceberg trembled under their feet to such an extent that
all three were hurled flat.
“What can this mean?” came from Barry. “Is the berg turning over?”
“If dot is so, ve vill all peen drowned!” wailed Stults. “Oh, vy didn’t
I shtay by der ship alretty!”
The strange grinding and rocking lasted for fully two minutes, and then
gradually ceased, and the vast plain under them remained as before.
Slowly they arose to their feet, gazing uneasily at each other.
“I must say, I don’t like this,” remarked Barry, gravely.
“Nor do I,” put in Bob. “What a shaking up it was!”
“Who vould like dot?” put in Stults. “To peen drown town like a
nine-bin alretty!”
“You don’t understand,” continued the owner of the steam yacht. “The
Arrow----” He stopped short and put up his hand. “Hark!”
They listened, and from a distance heard another grinding and a
crashing.
“This iceberg must have struck some other berg!” cried Bob.
“More than likely.”
“What were you going to say about the Arrow? Do you think she has been
wrecked?”
“I trust not. But we had better run back and make sure.”
“And leave dot pear?” asked Stults.
“For the present. We can come back later--if everything is O. K.”
Without further words they set off over the ice in the direction where
the Arrow had been left.
It was a hard journey, especially to Barry, who had not yet fully
recovered from the contact with the big polar bear.
But at last they gained a point where they could look ahead to the spot
where the Arrow had been fast in the ice.
Then a cry of dismay burst from all three at once.
The steam yacht had disappeared!