CAST AWAY ON THE ICE
It was one of Bobby's characteristics never to acknowledge himself
defeated in anything he undertook to do, so long as there seemed a
possibility of accomplishing the thing in hand. He had set out to find a
suitable drift and to build a snow house. He was confident such a drift
was to be found not far from the _komatik_ where he had left Jimmy, for
in passing to Itigailit Island and back with loads of seals earlier in
the day he had observed some good hard drifts which he believed to be in
this locality, though he was aware that in the blinding snow he may have
stopped the dogs a little on one side or the other of them. So he felt
assured that he and Jimmy had overlooked them in their previous search,
and this time he was determined to find them.
This it was, then--this dislike to feel himself beaten--rather than dire
necessity, that had sent him on the final search. And, too, the man who
lives constantly in the wilderness never endures unnecessary hardships.
He makes himself as comfortable as the conditions under which he lives
will permit, and provides himself as many conveniences and comforts as
possible under the circumstances in which he finds himself, without
burdening himself with needless luxuries.
Bobby had hinted to Jimmy that they might protect themselves under the
snow, after the manner of the dogs. He had done this once during the
winter, when he and Abel Zachariah were hunting together and were
suddenly overtaken by a storm. But at best this was an uncomfortable
method of passing a night, and a last resort, and Bobby was therefore
quite willing to endure preliminary discomfort in order to secure an
_igloo_.
Engrossed in his search he wandered much farther afield than he had
intended, and much farther than he knew, which was a reckless thing to
do. And so it came about that presently, when his search was rewarded by
a solid drift of hard-packed snow, and he shouted to Jimmy to come on
with the dogs, no answer came from Jimmy, and Bobby, endeavoring to
locate himself, became quite confused and uncertain as to the direction
in which Jimmy and the _komatik_ lay, for his course had been a winding
course, in and out among the hummocks, and in the blinding, swirling
snow he could never see a dozen feet from where he stood.
Then he shouted again and listened intently, and again and again, but
only the roar and boom of sea and pounding ice and the shrieking and
weird moaning of the wind gave answer.
"Well, I've lost Jimmy, sure enough," he acknowledged to himself at
last, after much futile shouting, "and I'm lost myself, too! I don't
know north from south, and I couldn't hit in ten guesses in which
direction the _komatik_ is! This is a pretty mess!"
Dusk was not far off, and there was no time to be lost, and without
further parley or useless waste of breath and strength Bobby set bravely
to work with his snow knife, as any wilderness dweller in similar case
would have done, and in a little while had prepared for himself a
grave-shaped cavern in the drift, with a stout roof of snow blocks, and
when it was finished he crawled in and closed the entrance with a huge
block.
This emergency shelter was, of course, not to be compared with a
properly built _igloo_, but an _igloo_ he could scarcely have built in
the face of the storm without assistance. It was, however, much more
comfortable than a burrow in the drift, such as Jimmy had made, for it
gave him an opportunity to turn over and stretch his limbs, and it
afforded him, also, a considerable breathing space.
"'Twould be fine, now, if I only had my sleeping bag," he soliloquized,
when he had at last composed himself in his improvised shelter. "I hope
Jimmy's just as snug. I told him about getting in the snow like the dogs
do, and he'll do it and be all right, and he's got his sleeping bag,
too."
Bobby was not given to vain regrets and needless worry, as we have seen,
but nevertheless he could not keep his mind from the possible fate of
himself and Jimmy, and think as he would he could conceive of no
possible means of their escape, save in the possibility of the floe
coming again in contact with land. Then his thoughts ran to Abel and
Mrs. Abel, and before he was aware of it he was crying bitterly.
"If I'd only hurried on, as Skipper Ed told me to!" he moaned. "I'm
always doing something! And there's Jimmy in the--in the fix too! And it
was all my fault!"
And then he remembered the evening devotions that Abel and Mrs. Abel
were doubtless then holding in the cabin. He could see Abel taking the
old worn Eskimo Bible and hymnal from the shelf, and Abel reading and
the two good folks singing a hymn, and then kneeling in praise and
thanks to God for his mercies. And joining them in spirit he sang the
Eskimo version of "Nearer My God to Thee," and then he knelt and prayed,
and felt the better for it.
For a long while he lay, after his devotions were ended, recalling the
kindness of his beloved foster parents. But at last he, too, like Jimmy,
fell asleep to the tune of the booming ice and howling wind, and,
exhausted with his day's work, he slept long and heavily.
When Bobby awoke at last he perceived that it was twilight in his snow
cavern, and, listening for the wind, discovered to his satisfaction that
it had ceased to blow.
"Now I'll find Jimmy," said he, seizing his snow knife, "and see how he
spent the night in the storm."
He removed the snow block from the entrance and cut away the
accumulated drift, and crawling out at once looked about him with
astonished eyes. On one side very near where he had been sleeping waves
were breaking upon the ice, and far away beyond the waters lay the bleak
and naked headland of Cape Harrigan. In the east the sun was just
rising, and the snow of the ice pack sparkled and glittered with
wondrous beauty.
But Bobby saw only the open water, and the distant land, and nowhere
Jimmy or the dogs. A sickening dread came into his heart. The water had
eaten away the ice as he slept! That was the side upon which Jimmy must
have been! Jimmy was gone! He had no doubt Jimmy's body was now floating
somewhere in that stretch of black water!
Then he ran out over the ice and among the hummocks, shouting: "Jimmy!
Jimmy! Answer me, Jimmy, and tell me you're alive! Oh, Jimmy! Tell me
you're alive!"
But no Jimmy answered, and, overcome with grief, Bobby sat down upon the
snow and threw his arms over his knees, and, pillowing his head in the
crook of his elbow, wept.
"It's all my fault! It's all my fault!" he moaned. "I the same as killed
him! I led him into it! Oh, if I hadn't gone back for the whip! Oh, if
I'd only hurried when Skipper Ed told me to!"
But Bobby was young and healthy and active, and had an appetite, and the
air was excessively cold. The appetite began to call for food and drink,
and the cold drove him to exercise. And so, rising at last and drying
his eyes, he very wisely resolved:
"There's no good to come from crying or mourning about Jimmy, I suppose,
or what's past. I've got to do something for myself now. There's a
chance the ice may drive back with a shift of wind, and I've got to try
to keep alive as long as I can."
He had nothing to eat, no cup into which to melt ice for water, and no
lamp or seal oil with which to make a fire over which to melt the ice
had he possessed a cup, but he set out at a rapid pace to explore the
ice field, clinging as he walked to his snow knife, the only weapon he
possessed, for his rifle had been left upon the _komatik_, and in a
little while he discovered that the pack was not so large as he had
supposed it to be, for the heavy seas of the night before had eaten away
its edges. It had broken away, indeed, to a point far within the
boundaries of their old _igloo_ and the place where they had hunted.
"The first little blow will break the whole floe up," he said
dejectedly. "Anyhow I suppose it won't matter, for I'll soon starve to
death without a gun."
But out to the southward lay a great field of ice, and it seemed not so
far away. An hour's observation assured Bobby that his small floe was
traveling much more rapidly than this larger field, and was gradually
approaching it. Late in the afternoon he caught the glint of miniature
bergs, as the sunlight touched them, rising above the great floe ahead,
and as he watched them a burst of understanding came upon him.
"It's the great North pack!" he exclaimed. "It's the Arctic pack! If I
can get on that I'll be safe from drowning, anyhow, for a few days! It's
stronger than this, and it'll stand some good blows."
To quench his thirst he clipped particles of ice with his snow knife and
sucked them, while he ran up and down to keep warm. And, as night
approached, he built a new night shelter from snow blocks, near the
center of his floe, and, very hungry and despondent, crawled into it to
lie long and think of Abel Zachariah and Mrs. Abel, and the lost
happiness in the cabin which was his home; and of Skipper Ed and Jimmy,
and of the old days that were now gone forever, when he and Jimmy had
played together with never a thought of the terrible fate that awaited
them; and of the adventure on the cliff, and the hundred other scrapes
into which they had got and from which they had somehow always escaped
unharmed; and even of the lonely grave on Itigailit Island, and the
cairn of stones he had built upon it.
"A tragedy brought me into the country," he said to himself, "and a
tragedy has taken me out of it, and the end of my life will be a
tragedy."
And then, after long thought:
"Skipper Ed says our destiny is God's will. But God always has a
purpose in His will. I wonder if I've fulfilled my destiny, and what the
purpose of it was. Maybe it was just to be a son to Father and Mother."
He mused upon this for a long time, and then his thoughts ran to Skipper
Ed and Jimmy:
"I wonder what there is in Skipper Ed's life that he's never told us,"
he pondered. "He's always said he was a wandering sailor-man, who stopped
on the coast because he liked it. He never was a common sailor, I'm
sure. I never thought of that before! Sailors aren't educated, and he
is! And whenever Jimmy or I asked him to tell about his own life before
he came here he always put us off with something else."
And then he fell asleep to dream that he and Skipper Ed were walking
under strange trees, with flowers, the like of which he had never seen,
blooming all about them and making the air sweet with their perfume.