THE SHIPS THAT CAME DOWN TO THE ICE
Closer and closer came the three black streaks, and presently the masts,
then the funnels, and finally the hulls of three ships appeared, first
one, then another, then the third. Bobby watched them with awe and
wonder. He even forgot for a time that a way was opening for his escape.
The three ships were streaming directly toward the ice, and in the
course of an hour after he had first sighted them the advance ship came
to, half a mile or so from the floe, and not above a mile to the
southward of him. Boats were lowered before the steamer had fully
stopped, and immediately men swarmed over her sides and into them, and
in a moment the boats put off for the ice, the men climbed out upon it
and presently were running everywhere, beating to the right and to the
left with clubs.
Then the boats returned to the ship to fetch more men, and still more,
until there were more men upon the ice than Bobby had ever seen before,
and all beating about them with their clubs. So it was with the other
ships as they came up; they, too, sent scores upon scores of men to the
ice in boats.
Bobby was astonished beyond measure at what he saw, and at first he was
afraid, and watched from a distance. But at last he recalled that he had
heard of this thing before. These were the seal hunters from
Newfoundland, and with bats they were slaying the young white-coat
seals, and such of the old seals, also, as did not slip away from them
into the water.
Finally some of the sealers from the first ship were making their way up
over the ice in the direction of Bobby's _igloo_, and presently he knew
they would be upon the very seals that he had watched with so much
interest growing from day to day. Among these were two men with guns,
instead of clubs, and these two devoted their attention to the old
seals, which now and again they shot.
Overcome with awe and wonder, and timid in the presence of so many
strangers, Bobby kept himself from view while he watched, though he knew
that presently he would be called upon to present himself, in order that
he might escape from the floe, for in all probability no other
opportunity would come to him.
So, uncertain, expectant, and trembling with excitement, he remained
concealed behind an ice hummock until the seal hunters in advance had
nearly reached him, and further concealment was impossible. Then he
stepped boldly out.
The effect of Bobby's appearance was instantaneous and wonderful. A man
in the advance, looking up, saw the strangely clad figure apparently
rise out of the ice itself. The man turned about and wildly broke for
the boats. Then another and another took one terrified glance at the
supposed apparition, and tarrying not, turned about to compete with the
first in a mad race for the boats. Shouts of "Ghost! Ghost!" filled the
air, and then the stampede and panic became general, though after the
manner of panic-stricken crowds, perhaps none but the first two or three
had the slightest idea why or from what they were running.
The two men with guns were still some little distance from Bobby when
the stampede began. One of these men was perhaps twenty-three or
twenty-four years of age, the other many years his senior. They were
dressed after the manner of sportsmen, and were evidently not members of
the sealing crew. They did not join in the stampede as the men rushed
past them in wild flight and confusion, but in utter astonishment looked
for its cause in the direction from which the men had come, and
discovered nothing more terrifying than Bobby, standing alone and no
less astonished at what had occurred than themselves, and more than half
inclined to run as fast in the opposite direction as the sealers had run
toward their boats.
"Uncle, there's an Eskimo!" exclaimed the younger of the two, observing
Bobby's sealskin garments, but at that distance unable to note that his
features were wholly unlike those of an Eskimo.
"Sure enough!" said the older man. "That explains it! The men weren't
expecting to see any one, and they've taken him for a ghost! Come on,
Edward. Let us interview him."
"How could an Eskimo get out here on the floe?" asked Edward, as they
set out toward Bobby. "We're a long way from land."
"I don't know," said his companion. "We'll soon learn. But Eskimo
hunters go a long way after seals, and he's probably on a hunting
expedition."
"Why, he hasn't the features of an Eskimo, though he's dressed like one;
and he's a handsome looking chap!" said Edward, in an undertone, as they
drew near Bobby, who had overcome his inclination to run and had not
moved.
"Good-morning!" greeted the older man a moment later, when they were
within speaking distance.
"Good-morning, sir," said Bobby, timidly.
"We thought you were an Eskimo, and" laughing, "the men apparently
thought you were a ghost. You gave them a fine fright."
"I didn't mean to frighten them," said Bobby apologetically.
"I only wanted them to take me off the ice."
[Illustration: "I was hunting," explained Bobby. "The ice broke loose
and cut Jimmy and me off from Skipper Ed"]
"Take you off the ice? Why, how did you get on it? We thought perhaps
you were hunting."
"I was hunting," explained Bobby, "but now I'm adrift. I'm Bobby
Zachariah, from Abel's Bay. The ice broke loose and cut Jimmy and me
off from Skipper Ed, and Jimmy's drowned--"
Tears came into Bobby's eyes and he choked at the recollection.
"I'm Frederick Winslow," said the man kindly and sympathetically, taking
Bobby's hand, "and this is my nephew Edward Norman. We do not know where
Abel's Bay is, nor who Skipper Ed and Jimmy are, but we're glad we found
you, and you're to go with us to the ship, and then you can tell us
about it, and there'll be a way to send you home to Abel's Bay."
"Edward Norman!" exclaimed Bobby. "Why, that's Skipper Ed's name!"
"Who is Skipper Ed?" inquired Mr. Winslow. "But never mind. Don't
explain now. You must be nearly starved if you've been adrift long. Come
with us."
"I've been over a week--nearly two weeks, I think," said Bobby, "but I'm
not hungry. I've had plenty of seals. Let me get my snow knife, sir.
It's in the _igloo_."
Then they went with Bobby and marveled at his _igloo_, and his crude
lamp, which they must have as a souvenir, and that Bobby had not
perished. And praised him for a brave lad, as they led him off. And
Bobby, who saw nothing wonderful or strange in his _igloo_ or lamp, or
anything he had done, said little, but followed timidly. And when the
men he had frightened so badly learned that Bobby was a castaway and a
very real person and not a ghost at all, they vied with one another in
showering kindnesses upon him, for these men of the fleets, though a bit
rough, and a bit superstitious at times, have big brave hearts, filled
with sympathy for their kind.
And so it came about that Bobby, who had come to the Coast a drifting
waif of the sea, was carried from it by the sea. And now he was to see
the land of strange trees and flowers and green fields of which Skipper
Ed had so often told when they sat in the big chairs before the fire on
winter evenings. And many other wonderful things were in store for
Bobby.