THE GLACIER
Now that the excitement was over and the boys had a chance to look about,
they searched the sea for Mr. Kemp. But nowhere was he to be seen. Then
their glance turned towards the schooner, and Tom uttered a frightened
cry.
“The _Narwhal_’s gone!”
Cap’n Pem turned from where he was directing the men as they labored to
get a fluke chain about the dead whale’s tail, shaded his eyes and swept
a swift glance around the horizon. “Reckon she are,” he remarked quite
undisturbed. “Get a waif up, Nate,” he continued, addressing the boat
steerer. “Swan if I know whar she be. An’ looks like Kemp’s hull down,
too.”
“But what will we do?” cried Jim. “How can we get to the _Narwhal_?”
“Won’t,” replied the old whaleman, once more bending to his work. “Let
the schooner come to us. Reckon the skipper hain’t los’ track o’ us.”
“Ye see,” explained the boat steerer as he fastened a red flag to the
mast and, with two of the men to help him, stepped the spar, “folks
’board the schooner can see us a heap farther than we kin see them.
They’ll be havin’ a lookout to the to’gallan’ crosstrees an’ keep track
o’ where we be.”
“Oh, I understand,” said Tom. “But say, Nate, why did you go for the head
of that whale? When we were on the _Hector_ they were always careful to
go on them from the tail end.”
“Them was sparm whales,” replied the boat steerer. “A sparm whale kin
see for’rard but not aft, an’ a right whale or bowhead kin see aft an’
not for’rard. ’Sides, a sparm fights mos’ly with his jaw an’ a right or
a bowhead fights with his flukes. ‘Bewar’ o’ a sparm’s jaws an’ a right
whale’s flukes,’ is a ol’ whalin’ motter.”
“But what’s become of Mr. Kemp, do you suppose?” queried Jim. “Do you
think anything’s happened to him?”
“Naw, I guess he’s jus’ been towed out o’ sight,” declared Nate. “Anyhow
it’s every man for hisself a-goin’ arter whales. Reckon the Old Man kin
see him.”
The fluke chain was now fast about the whale’s “small,” as the portion
of the creature’s body near the tail is called, and the boat, fastened
to it by the stout hemp line, rode as steadily and as easily as though
moored to an island. The immense carcass formed a lee, and the oil oozing
from his wounds, smoothed the water, making a broad “slick.”
“Purty good-sized critter,” commented Cap’n Pem, as he seated himself and
lit his pipe. “Bet ye he’ll turn a hundred bar’ls, an’ nigh half a ton o’
bone. Put up a right smart fight though—blowed if he didn’t. Waall, boys,
how did ye like the fun?”
“Fine, now it’s over,” laughed Jim. “But I admit I wished I was on the
_Narwhal_ a good many times while that old whale was thrashing around
with his flukes.”
“Gosh, but he did come near smashing us!” cried Tom. “Just the same, I’m
glad we were here, and that the first time we went in on a whale he was a
fighter. Say, won’t the boys back home open their eyes when we tell them
about this?”
“Oh, there’s the _Narwhal_!” exclaimed Jim, who had stood up and was
gazing about. “And not a bit where I expected her to be.”
“Waall, if ye could ha’ kep’ track o’ which way was which, ye’d ’a been
a heap sight better’n I be at keepin’ my bearin’s,” chuckled Cap’n Pem.
“By heck, fer a spell I actooaly did think that there ol’ whale was
a-goin’ fer to git the best on us.”
“Would have if ye hadn’t a-fetched him as we run over his back,” declared
one of the men. “By glory, Cap’n, that was some stunt ye pulled off. But
say, it mos’ made me split, a-seein’ of ye a-diggin’ that lance into the
water like as if ye was a-spearin’ eels.”
“Shucks, that weren’t nothin’,” declared Cap’n Pem. “I don’ calc’late to
miss a chanct even if the dumb critter do sound jes when I’m a-gettin’
ready fer to lance him.”
“But he almost wrecked us!” exclaimed Tom. “If he’d come up a second
sooner, he would have capsized the boat and we’d all have been drowned or
smashed by his flukes.”
The old whaleman chuckled. “Waall, I reckon we mought ha’ been,” he
admitted. “But we wasn’t. ’Sides, no whaleman never thinks o’ sech
things. We wuz out fer to git this here whale, and it’s git him or git
stove.”
“But why didn’t you use the bomb lance?” asked Jim. “You had a good
chance.”
“Look here, son,” said the old man petulantly. “I was brung up along with
a reg’lar iron an’ a reg’lar lance. These here new-fangled contraptions
may be all right fer them as likes ’em, but give me the old fashion’
weepons every time. By gum, I want ter see whar I’m a-drivin’ o’ the
lance at. ’Sides, any dumb-foozled lan’lubber could git whales by a
settin’ off an’ a-shootin’ of ’em. They ain’t no sport in it.”
By now the _Narwhal_ was within a quarter of a mile of the boat. As her
yards were swung and she was hove to, the men picked up their oars and
headed for the schooner. As they drew alongside, Cap’n Pem shouted up to
Captain Edwards and asked if they had seen the second officer’s boat.
“No, he was towed hull down,” replied the skipper. “But we can fetch him
all right. Just stick a waif in that whale, get your boat aboard and
we’ll run down to him.”
One of the men scrambled on to the whale’s body, and drove a sharp
pointed iron bar bearing a flag at the end into the carcass. Then,
casting loose the line to the fluke chain, the crew clambered on to the
schooner and hoisted the boat to its davits.
“Well, boys, how did you like it?” asked Captain Edwards as Tom and Jim
reached the deck. “Had a right pretty tussle—I was watchin’ you from
aloft.”
“Fine!” declared Tom. “But we _were_ scared some of the time, and oh, we
had a great joke on Cap’n Pem! The cat was in the boat and she had four
kittens.”
The skipper roared. “Well, that must have broken the spell!” he
exclaimed. “What did Pem say?”
“Same thing,” replied Jim, “but he added that if it hadn’t been for the
cat we wouldn’t have had so much trouble.”
“Waall, I bet ye that’s so!” burst out the old whaleman. “An’ there’ll be
other bad luck a-comin’ from the dumb critter.”
“B’ the powers!” exclaimed Mike who stood near. “’Tis a ol’ fool yez be.
Shure, didn’t yez know a cat bein’ afther havin’ kits aboorrd a ship do
be the foinest luck in the world? B’gorra ’tis four av thim yez is afther
sayin’? Thin ’tis four whales yez should be afther gettin’.”
Instantly, as usual, the two one-legged old sailors began to argue, and
the boys and the captain turned away to let them have it out. Presently,
from the masthead, came a shout that the missing boat was sighted. Soon
it was visible from the deck. But the boys, even with their glasses,
could not distinguish a whale fast to Mr. Kemp’s boat.
“I wonder if they lost it,” said Jim. “Say, if they did, Cap’n Pem will
swear it was the cat.”
But a moment later, Tom’s sharp eyes spied a tiny rag fluttering above
the waves some distance from the second mate’s boat. “There’s the whale!”
he shouted. “See, it’s got a waif on it.”
“You’re right,” agreed Jim. And then a moment later, “Gosh, Tom, is that
another waif—over there to the west of the boat?”
Tom looked steadily for a moment. “Golly, it is!” he cried. “Oh, Captain
Edwards, they’ve got two whales!”
“What?” cried the skipper hurrying to the boys and taking Tom’s glasses.
“By the great red herring, you’re right!”
“Why in tarnation ain’t he fas’ to ’em?” cried Captain Pem, who had
stopped his discussion with Mike at the boys’ announcement.
“Expect he was pullin’ for the ship and couldn’t tow ’em,” said the
skipper.
A few minutes later they were within hailing distance. Then the schooner
was hove to, and the boat drew alongside.
“See you had good luck, Mr. Kemp!” cried the Captain heartily. “Pem got a
big bull too—put up purtiest tussle I ever seen—and that’s three bowheads
in a afternoon! Guess Mike’s right about those kittens, boys! Only need
one more whale to make the four!”
Mr. Kemp grinned. “If you’ll jus’ run down to the east’ard a couple o’
miles, you’ll find t’other one,” he announced.
“What in thunder ye talkin’ ’bout?” cried Cap’n Pem, staring at the
second mate as though he thought he had gone mad. “Ye don’t mean to stan’
there an’ say—oh, ’tain’t nat’ral!”
“True jus’ the same,” grinned Mr. Kemp. “I beat ye by two bowheads, Pem.”
“Shure, Oi knowed it,” commented Mike. “B’gorra, ’tis hopin’ the blessed
cat’ll be afther havin’ o’ kittens iviry day, b’jabbers.”
Every one aboard the schooner was in high spirits over the phenomenal
luck of getting four whales in one day, and as one after the other of the
big carcasses were picked up and made fast by stout hemp lines, the men
sang and laughed. Nate, the harpoonier, roared out the quaint song:
My father’s a hedger and ditcher,
My mother does nothing but spin,
While I hunt whales for my living,
Good Lord, how the money comes in!
And lustily all joined in the chorus, for thousands of dollars had been
won in the past few hours, and every member of the _Narwhal’s_ crew would
share in the prize. Even old Captain Pem grudgingly agreed that he could
find no fault with the ship’s luck, and admitted the black cat’s spell
must have been broken. “But don’t fergit weather’s allers ca’mest jes
afore a squall,” he said as a parting shot.
Mr. Kemp’s three bowheads were soon alongside, but that taken by Cap’n
Pem’s boat was several miles distant, and the schooner could make no
progress with the light wind with the three huge carcasses in tow.
“Now aren’t you glad we had that motor put in?” asked Tom of Cap’n Pem,
as Mike started the motor and, with the staccato reports of the exhaust
echoing over the Arctic sea, the _Narwhal_ slowly pushed through the
long swells, with the dead whales like a string of deeply laden barges
trailing astern.
“Waall, I reckon I got ter admit ’tis a bit handy,” replied the old
whaleman. “An’ I ain’t so all-fired ol’ fashioned I can’t admit it,
neither. An’ time we gits inter the ice pack, I reckon it’ll come in
mighty useful, too. But jes the same I ain’t got no use fer bumb lances
nor dartin’ guns, nor such new-fangled contraptions. No, siree, my father
and my granther used good, hand-wrought irons, an’ what was good ernough
fer them’s good ernough for me, by cricky.”
With the four whales alongside, cutting in and boiling began in earnest,
and so anxious was the crew to get the oil and bone stowed and start
after more whales, that they worked almost without cessation, cutting
their periods or watches of rest to half the usual time.
“Mighty glad we took them Eskimos aboard over to Hebron,” remarked Mr.
Kemp, as he paused a moment from his labors and watched the busy brown
men, who had stripped to the waist and were scrambling about, jabbering
incessantly, reminding the boys of a group of big monkeys. “And that
‘boy’ as you called him, Unavik, is a corker. Guess we’ll make him boss
of the Eskimo bunch.”
A little later Unavik approached the two boys, grinning from ear to ear,
covered with grease and soot, and gnawing at a strip of raw blubber.
“H’lo!” he exclaimed. “Plenty work me tell. Suppose you no got chew
t’bac?”
“No, but I’ll get you some,” said Tom, and hurrying to the cabin he
returned with a plug.
The Eskimo bit a huge piece from the tobacco, tore off a mouthful of the
blubber and industriously chewing both together smacked his lips.
“Gosh, but that must be _some_ combination!” exclaimed Jim.
“I suppose it’s a regular treat to him,” said Tom. “But it makes me sick
just to think of eating that oily blubber, not to mention the tobacco.”
“All right, me go work, you betcher!” ejaculated Unavik as soon as he
could talk. “You good frien’. Bimeby me go ’long hunt bear ’side you
feller.” Stuffing the tobacco in his grease-soaked trousers, the Eskimo
hurried back to the cutting stage.
All through the night, with the Aurora flickering above the northern
horizon, and with the dull orange sun just visible upon the southern rim
of the sea, the men toiled on. All through the following day the dripping
strips of blubber were hauled on deck, the mincing knives thudded through
the greasy mass upon the horse, the try works belched thick columns of
black smoke, the cooper’s hatchet rang incessantly as casks were headed
up, the tackles groaned and whined as the filled barrels were lowered
into the hold, great masses of the whalebone were piled on deck and
carcass after carcass, having been stripped of its precious covering of
blubber, was cut loose and drifted slowly away from the ship.
Screaming, screeching, and squawking, a vast flock of sea birds had
gathered about, swooping fearlessly among the men to tear bits of
flesh and blubber from the whales. The birds rested by hundreds upon
the grease-slicked water, sweeping back and forth above the decks, and
hovering in clouds above the discarded, floating bodies. Never had the
boys seen so many birds. They spent hours watching them as they sailed
and wheeled and fought over the scraps and offal. Then at last the fourth
carcass was cast adrift, the final pieces of blubber were boiled, the
smoke from the try works dwindled and died out, the casks were stowed,
and with over three hundred barrels of oil and more than two tons of
choice bone in her hold, the schooner’s sails were hoisted. The men
cleaned and swabbed the decks, and onward into the north and east the
_Narwhal_ held her course.
For two days the schooner sailed steadily on, but no whale, no tiny puff
of spray, broke the even surface of the sea. On the third morning, the
boys glanced ahead to see soft gray mountains looming against the sky.
“Greenland!” announced Mr. Kemp who was on watch.
“Gosh, it doesn’t seem possible,” exclaimed Tom, gazing fixedly at the
distant land. “Now we really _are_ in the Arctic. Will we have a chance
to go ashore, Mr. Kemp?”
“Guess you will,” replied the second officer. “The skipper’s goin’ to get
some more Eskimos yonder—puttin’ into Disko Bay. Shouldn’t wonder if he
did some sealin’ or walrus huntin’ too.”
“Hurrah! won’t it be great to say we’ve really been in Greenland?” cried
Jim. “Golly, I never realized there were mountains there though.”
Rapidly the land grew more distinct. The boys could see deep bays—which
Captain Edwards told them were fiords—great clefts cut far into the
cliffs and marvelously colored with soft purples, mauves and blue. Here
and there a valley between the hills gleamed green as an emerald, while
vast, glistening, white masses of ice and snow zigzagged through narrow
defiles. Stretching seaward from the shores was a broad white plain that
rose and fell and moved like a restless white sea.
“What _is_ that white?” asked Tom who could not make it out.
“Shore ice, pan ice,” replied the captain. “Tide and wind sets it
inshore, but it’s all pretty mushy now. Look, there’s a bit of it ahead.”
Bobbing up and down upon the waves, gleaming like silver in the sunshine,
the boys saw several acres of drifting ice. As the schooner slipped by
it, they exclaimed in delight at the wonderful beauty of the vivid green
and blue of the submerged parts of the ice.
“Why, the water’s as clear as in the West Indies!” exclaimed Jim. “And
almost as blue. Say, I always thought this place was dull and gray and
covered with ice and snow, and it’s as fresh and lovely as anything. Now
I know why it’s called Greenland.”
“Oh, what’s that big white wall there?” cried Tom.
“It looks like a great white cliff.”
The skipper glanced shoreward. “That’s a glacier,” he replied. “River of
ice, like. They’re what make icebergs.”
“How on earth can they make icebergs?” asked Jim, studying the
precipitous face of the glacier.
“Water cuts under ’em and they break off, and the pieces are the bergs,”
explained the captain. “That’s what we call calving.”
“Well, it’s the prettiest colored thing I’ve ever seen,” declared Jim.
“It’s for all the world like a giant opal and constantly changing. Gosh,
it doesn’t look like any ice I ever saw.”
The _Narwhal_ was now sailing close to the outer edge of the pack ice and
a sharp lookout was kept for seals or whales. Then, rounding a jutting
cape, the boys saw a deep blue fiord with a stupendous glacier leading
down a great valley to the rocky beach. The mouth of the fiord was clear
of ice, and so the _Narwhal’s_ course was shifted, and she slipped into
the dark shadows of the towering cliffs. The water, calm as a millpond,
was deepest indigo, and upon it the rocky heights and the great glacier
were reflected as in a burnished mirror. Fascinated, the boys were gazing
at the beautiful picture when the lookout’s hail reached the deck. “_Pod_
o’ seal over to wind’ard,” he shouted. “Close in shore!”
Captain Edwards sprang into the rigging, gazed in the direction indicated
and leaped back to the deck. “Harps!” he announced. “We’ll have a try for
’em. Stand by to lower away the port boat. Mr. Kemp, you take charge,
you’ve had more experience with them critters than any one else.”
“Can we go?” asked Tom.
“Guess you can,” responded the captain, “no danger sealin’.”
In a few moments the boat was in the water, the sealing clubs, with guns
and rifles, were placed in readiness, and with a will the crew pulled
toward the dark specks that marked the dozing, unsuspecting seals.
As they drew near shore, the mountains seemed to overhang the boat, and
the face of the glacier loomed enormous against the background of the
hills. Here and there, grounded on bars or shoals, were small bergs and
one enormous one, with lofty pinnacles like the many spires of a great
cathedral, was floating majestically near the head of the fiord. From the
cliffs, where they stood in endless rows, the auks, guillemots, puffins,
and cormorants gazed down and protested in raucous cries. Presently the
boys could distinguish the seals—great brownish yellow creatures with
dark harp-shaped markings on their backs—a hundred or more, drawn far up
on the shore among the rotting cakes of ice and sleeping soundly in the
warm summer sunshine.
Silently the boat crept nearer. Without a sound, it grated against the
shore. Armed with their clubs and one or two firearms, the men leaped
towards the herd. Instantly the seals were awake, their heads were thrown
up, their big lustrous eyes turned wonderingly. Then in terror at the
onrushing horde of men, with short sharp barks and yelps of fear, they
commenced scrambling towards the sea and safety. But the men, led by the
Eskimos, had spread in a half circle. They were between the seals and
the water. As the first panic-stricken creatures reached the shouting,
yelling crew, the heavy clubs rose and fell with dull, sickening thuds.
The seals dropped dying in their tracks and the others, turning, strove
blindly to get away from these new enemies.
“Gosh, it makes me sick!” exclaimed Tom as he saw the slaughter of the
poor helpless creatures. “It’s worse than killing sea elephants. No more
sealing for me!”
“Nor me either,” declared Jim, “it’s just murder. And aren’t they pretty
things!”
In a few moments it was all over. The beach and ice were strewn with
the dead seals—not a single one had escaped—and the men, flushed and
perspiring with exertion, and shouting triumphantly, tossed aside their
bludgeons and commenced stripping the hides from the dead seals.
The two boys shouldered their rifles and started along the beach
towards the glacier, now and then stopping to pick up some odd shell
or bright-colored pebble. Once they came to a tiny brook brawling over
the stones and followed it into a little valley, rich green with grass
and brilliant with scarlet poppies and bright golden yellow flowers.
From almost under Tom’s feet, a ptarmigan whirred up and stopping, the
boys discovered the nest filled to overflowing with the heavily spotted
brown eggs. A moment later Jim had his turn as he flushed a black and
white snow bunting and found its cleverly hidden nest and spotted green
eggs in their bed of fur and down. All about, from waving weeds stalks
and jutting bowlders, buntings and longspurs, gray sparrows and dainty
horned larks twittered and sang. From far up in the blue sky came a sweet
rollicking song as a lark soared and bubbled over with joy. The boys,
seating themselves on a ledge of rock, looked silently about, enjoying
the peaceful scene and unable to believe that this warm sun, these bright
flowers, these trilling birds were in far-off Greenland, a land they had
always pictured as barren, desolate, and cold. Then, as they retraced
their steps towards the beach, Jim jumped as a big Arctic hare leaped
from its resting place and went bounding off among the rocks.
“Whew, he _was_ a whopper!” cried Tom. “Why didn’t you shoot him, Jim?
He’d have tasted fine for a change from canned meat.”
Jim laughed. “I was so startled I forgot I had a gun,” he admitted, “and
say, I’m rather glad I did. Somehow I’d hate to shoot anything here, it’s
so pretty and happy.”
“Well, I guess we can struggle along without stewed rabbit for a while
yet,” said Tom. “It does seem kind of a shame to kill anything here.”
“The men aren’t half through yet,” announced Jim as the two boys reached
the beach once more. “Say, Tom, let’s walk over to the glacier.”
“All right,” agreed Tom readily, “it isn’t far and it will be fine to see
it close to. Say, doesn’t the _Narwhal_ look like a speck off there—with
all these big hills round!”
“Yes,” assented Jim, “and just think of how she looked when we first saw
her being towed into Fair Haven. Say, Tom, it’s almost weird, looking at
her off there and with us here and thinking she’s that same old tub we
saw, and that we came clear up here on her.”
“Yep, and that we’re her principal owners,” chuckled Tom.
So, talking and chatting, the two drew closer and closer to the towering
face of the great glacier. Presently they stopped to admire the play
of colors in the mighty mass of ice and, to get a clearer view, they
clambered up the steep slope of the rocky hillside. They were standing
there, gazing at the gigantic face of the glacier, when there was a
splintering, awful roar, the whole end of the glacier plunged forward
like a falling mountain and, as the crash of its fall echoed and
reverberated from the hills, a mighty, foaming, surging wave came hissing
and roaring up the beach. Never had the boys seen such a huge comber.
Green and irresistible, it raced straight towards them, the mighty swell
raised by the plunge of the stupendous mass of ice. The boys, already
startled and frightened half out of their wits by the deafening crash of
the falling ice, stood breathless and wide-eyed, watching the oncoming
wave that threatened to engulf them.
But they were just beyond its reach. With the upflung spray drenching
them to the skin, the wave dashed itself against the rocks at their feet
and then, with a sullen growl, drew back. Again and again the big waves
came tearing in, but each was smaller than the preceding, and soon the
beach stretched smooth and clear to the gently lapping ripples.
“Whew! it was lucky we climbed up here!” exclaimed Jim. “Say, it wouldn’t
have been any fun to have been down on the beach.”
“Or alongside that glacier,” added Tom. “Jiminy, look at that berg! We
_are_ lucky! We’ve seen a glacier calving!”
“And it’s _some_ calf!” cried Jim, as he gazed at the enormous berg which
but a few moments before had been a portion of the glacier.
“And look at the _Narwhal_!” exclaimed Tom.
The schooner was tossing and bobbing as if beset by a tempest, the masts
cutting great arcs against the sky, the bow shipping green water, white
froth pouring from the scuppers.
“Golly, that berg _did_ set a sea going!” ejaculated Jim. “I’ll bet Cap’n
Pem’ll swear it was all due to the cat.”
“Well, it’s no bad luck anyhow, unless—Say! Jim, how about the men? Gosh!
perhaps they were drowned or smashed by the waves. Come on, let’s beat
it!”