ADVENTURES ON THE BIG ICEBERG
“Gone!”
Bob and Barry uttered the single word simultaneously, while Stults let
out nothing more than a groan.
Yes, the Arrow was gone, and look as sharply as they might in every
direction not a trace of the steam yacht was to be found.
“This looks bad,” was Barry’s comment, when he could command his
feelings sufficiently to speak.
“Bad?” echoed Bob. “Oh, Barry, do you think----”
“I don’t know what to think.”
“But if she went down--with all on board----”
“Oh my! Oh my!” came from the German cook. “Please ton’t vos say dot,
Pob! Of she vent town vot vos ve to do, tole me dot?”
“Let us investigate,” said Barry.
They hurried forward, and as they drew closer to the spot where the
Arrow had rested in her icy berth they noted that the appearance of the
ice-field had changed somewhat. Part of the berg on the farther side
was broken away and there were dangerous crevasses running in half a
dozen directions.
“Something has been going on here sure,” observed the young yacht
owner. “Do you know what I think?”
“That the Arrow has gone down?”
“I think the iceberg split apart, just as it split when our ship was
caught fast, and then the two parts came together again.”
“And the Arrow----”
“Either backed out or else was smashed flat between the two sides when
they came together.”
“I ton’t vos seen no wreck,” put in Stults.
“Nor do I see anything,” said Bob.
“Then let us hope that she escaped destruction.”
“But what are we to do, Barry?”
“I’m sure I don’t know, excepting to stay here and wait for something
to turn up.”
“If the iceberg turns up we’ll be goners.”
“Yah, and dot vater vos so cold like neffer vos!” sighed the German
cook.
“Well, I don’t see anything different to do. We can stay here awhile
and see if anything more happens to this ice field.”
“If we have got to stay on the iceberg for some time we had better
secure that game,” said Bob. “It will keep us from starving for a
couple of weeks, on a pinch.”
Yet nobody felt like leaving the spot just then, and so they remained
there the best part of two hours looking for some trace of the Arrow.
But the search revealed absolutely nothing, and at last, with hearts
as heavy as lead, they journeyed back to where they had left the dead
polar bear.
The quaking of the iceberg had left numerous splits in the surface, and
they had to proceed with extreme caution less they should fall into
some hole, as Stults had done.
They found the bear as they had left it. High overhead circled a few
birds, evidently of prey, but soon these disappeared.
The short day was now coming to an end, and knowing they must pass a
long night on the ice, they prepared to make themselves as comfortable
as possible.
This was not saying much, since they had brought no coverings with them.
With the coming of darkness a raw wind came up, which pierced them to
the marrow of their bones.
“We will skin the bear,” said Barry, “and the skin ought to afford us
some sort of shelter.”
The skinning was easily accomplished, and then the pelt was propped up
on two of the guns to form a tiny wall against the gusts of air.
“Now if we could only build a fire, we might have some cooked meat,”
said Barry. “But we can’t build a fire without wood.”
“Let us take bits of rope,” suggested Bob. “And we can melt out some of
the fat in the bear and then use that.”
“Dot’s der talk!” burst out Stults. “Der fat vos chust der dings for a
fire!”
With care they lit several ends of rope and propped them up so that
they might burn like so many tarry wicks. Over the flame they held the
fattiest portions of the bear they could find. Soon the fat began to
drip and this they caught in an iron cup they possessed. Then the fat
took fire, giving them a lively blaze.
“Hurrah! Quite a little fire after all!” cried Bob. “I’m glad we
haven’t got to stay in the dark.”
“We’ll have to be careful of our stock of food and fat,” said Barry.
“There is no telling how long we’ll have to stay on this iceberg.”
“Perhaps ve neffer got off!” sighed Stults, who had now begun to broil
a steak. “Of I efer got pack by home again I vos stay dare, you pet me
mine life!”
When the steak was done each ate his fill, and the remainder was stored
away with care, along with what was left of the tried-out fat. Before
putting the fat away Barry dipped a length of rope into it a number of
times, thus making a candle of the old-fashioned sort.
It must be confessed that none of them slept soundly that night. The
mind of each was filled with speculations regarding the future. Would
the Arrow come back for them, providing she still existed, or were
they doomed to death in that Land of Desolation? And each of the party
uttered a silent but earnest prayer that they might be saved.
In the morning Bob was the first to rouse up. As he arose, he gave a
cry of dismay that quickly brought the others to their feet.
The awful fog of that location had again settled down, blotting out
what little there had been of the landscape, or rather, icescape. They
could not see a dozen feet in any direction.
“We are doomed!” cried Bob. “In this fog we won’t dare to move around.
If we do we’ll surely fall into some opening.”
He spoke the truth and all were more than usually sober as they sat
around their tiny fire and ate their breakfast of bear meat and some of
the provisions in the knapsacks.
What to do next was the question, but nobody knew how to answer it.
They knew they were Crusoes on an immense iceberg which was slowly
drifting toward the South Pole. To do anything which would better their
condition appeared impossible.
“This berg may go to smash at any moment,” said Barry. “And if it does
there is no telling what will become of us.”
The fog was growing thicker and soon it was so heavy that they
breathed only with the greatest of difficulty. Bob did not mind this so
much, but to Barry and Stults it was a severe trial.
Slowly the day wore away. The sun failed to appear and hardly a sound
broke the awful stillness. Once came a grinding and a crashing from a
distance, but that was all.
“Another iceberg gone to pieces,” said Bob, grimly. “Perhaps this will
go next.”
That evening all ate but little, for they had had their fill of bear
meat. The rude candle was lit and Stults tried out some more fat for
future use. Then they went to bed as they had done the night before.
“I’ll tell you what, Barry,” whispered Bob, as they were resting. “We
can’t stand this many days, especially with the fog. It’s enough to
drive one crazy.”
“We must stand it, Bob. Why, we’ve been here only two days. What will
you say after a week or a month has gone by?”
Bob could not answer this question, and so turned over to go to sleep.
The night was nearly gone, when Stults awoke his companions with a mad
yelling:
“Hellup! De pears vos on us! Hellup!”
Bob and Barry leaped to their feet. Stults was right, the two bears had
returned to the spot, and were now on the point of attacking them!