Being myself, reader, an "ice man" of some considerable experience, the
manner in which the officers and crew of the beleaguered craft _Flora
M'Vayne_ whiled away the time during their long winter imprisonment may
be said to be painted from the life.
At first it was supposed that the want of light would be a drawback to
enjoyment, but the steward was one of those men who can turn their hands
to anything, and he proposed making purser's dips from the spare fat.
He had to manufacture the wicks from cotton refuse, but, this
accomplished, the rest was simple enough.
Petroleum was burned only in the saloon, and it was stored in a hold
right beneath this for greater safety.
They had to be saving in the use thereof, however, and as they could
talk as well, if not better, by the flickering light of the fire, the
lamp was always turned out when no one cared to read. But around the
galley fire those purser's dips were a great comfort to the men when not
yarning. For then one man was told off to read while the others sat
around to smoke and listen.
And thus passed many a quiet and peaceful evening away.
The men, I am happy to say, did not seem to hanker after grog, and it
was finally agreed by all hands that it would be better to keep it for
what they were pleased to call the spring fishery, or as a stand-by in
case of illness.
They had plenty of tea and coffee, however, and a daily allowance of
lime-juice.
Then Saturday nights were kept up in quite the old-fashioned and
pleasant way, and the main-brace was invariably spliced.
Song succeeded song on these happy occasions, and many a toast was drunk
to the health of the dear ones far away on Britain's shore.
Nor was dancing neglected, the consequence being that fiddle, guitar,
and clarionet were in great request. As usual, little Johnnie Shingles
and that droll penguin, dressed as a merry old lady, or sometimes as a
modest wee maiden of sweet sixteen, convulsed the onlookers with their
droll antics as they sailed around in the mazy dance.
But the monkey one evening did not see why he should not also have a
waltz with Madam Pen.
"Yah--yah--yah!" he cried, as he approached her most coaxingly.
This was much as to say: "It is our dance, I believe, miss."
He attempted to take hold of Pen's flippers in the meanwhile, and was
rewarded with a dig between the eyes that sent him reeling back, and so
Jim made no more offers to trip it on the light fantastic toe with Madam
Pen, on this evening or any other. In fact, he used to content himself
with lying in front of the fire with one of Vike's huge paws round his
neck.
When Pen pecked the monkey he made an ugly scar, but poor kind-hearted
Vike licked it every day several times with his soft warm tongue, and so
it soon healed up.
----
Frank was by no means a very ambitious boy; he had not very much of the
Scottish dash and go about him, and would at any time have preferred not
doing to-day what could be just as easily done to-morrow, but he was
clever for all that.
He it was who first attempted fishing in the ice-hole. But the ship had
been imprisoned for well-nigh six weeks before he thought of it. The
fact is, that by this time many of the men began to ail, and a peculiar
kind of lassitude, dulness, and lowness of spirits were the first
symptoms they complained of. Spots then appeared on the skin, every
muscle ached when they moved. They suffered greatly from cold, and even
their countenances grew worn and dusky.
The awful truth soon flashed upon Talbot's mind: these men were attacked
by scurvy.
No less than three grew rapidly worse, and died one after the other--in
spite of all that could be done for them. It was sad to listen to their
last ravings and hear them speaking as if to friends at home; to a wife,
a sister, or mayhap a sweetheart. Ah! but this was only when they were
very near to the end.
A hammock had soon to be requisitioned after this, and the poor fellows
were laid to rest many yards distant from the ship in a cold, icy grave.
Prayers were said over each, and there they will sleep probably for ever
and for aye. For those buried thus never know decay till the ice around
them may melt millions of years hence.
No medicine on board had any effect, and five in all were buried before
the plague was stayed. It had been brought on, without doubt, from the
want of fresh provisions, so Frank's idea of fishing adown the ice-hole
was really a happy thought. For a whole day, however, like the apostle
of old, he fished, but caught nothing. But on the day after he hooked a
ray, and then a bonito.
From that very time fishing became a sport in which all the boys took
part--and the plague soon left the ship.
Sorrowful indeed was Talbot at the loss of his men, still, grief is but
transient on board ship. In a case like the present it would not do for
it to be otherwise, for nothing is more depressing.
Moreover, the captain came now to the conclusion that the men had not
enough exercise, so he proceeded at once to put into execution a plan
that would meet the requirements of the case.
He instituted games on the ice.
Games in the dark! Is that your remark, reader?
But it was very far indeed from being dark. There was at the present
time a moon, though it was at no great height above the horizon. Well,
moonlight does not last long anyhow, but the bright beams from the
star-studded heavens were far better than the moon at its best, and
almost dimmed its splendour.
The sky was wondrously clear, and the stars seemed very large. So close
aboard, too, did they appear to be that you might have thought it
possible to touch them with a fishing-rod.
There are probably no games so invigorating as those called Scottish, or
more properly Highland. They tend to the expansion of the chest and to
the bracing and strengthening of every muscle in the body.
So hammer-throwing, weight-putting, leaping, and tossing the caber soon
became the rule every forenoon. Then in the afternoon, and before tea,
Highland dancing was the rage.
This is dancing in every sense of the word. Quadrilles are only fit for
old folks, and waltzing--well, it is nice enough in a brilliantly-lit
hall, with soft dreamy music and a brilliant partner, but, after all, it
is only just wiping your feet and whirling round.
A broad sheet of wood was spread on the ice near the ship for Highland
dancing, quite a large platform in fact.
And Duncan, like Auld Nick in Burns's masterpiece, _Tam o' Shanter_,
"Screwed his pipes and gart them skirl
Till roof and rafters a' did dirl."
* * * * *
Nae cotillion brent new frae France,
But hornpipes, jigs, strathspeys, and reels,
Put life and mettle in their heels."
But these were not the only amusements the crew went in for, on the
snow-clad ice, for while Conal and Frank were one day visiting those
great bergs, the inventive genius of the latter was once more shown.
They found that a great portion of one side of the biggest berg was
quite on the slope, and covered with frozen snow.
"Hurrah!" cried Frank, "I've got another."
"Another what?"
"Why, another idea. This iceberg is just suited for tobogganing."
"Now," he added, "we sha'n't say a word to anybody till we try it
ourselves first."
They, however, took the carpenter into their confidence, and he made
them tiny sledges to sit upon. The slide was on a pretty gradual slope
and altogether was about a hundred yards long from the top. Steps were
cut at one side to make the getting up easy, and Frank himself was the
first to make the descent.
"It is simply glorious!" This was his report.
"Flying," he added, "isn't in it."
And Conal himself confirmed this statement as soon as he himself had
gone rushing down.
After this the great toboggan slide was in daily request, and the sound
that came from the big berg was like the roaring of stones on a Scottish
curling pond.
But high above the rushing noise, came the shouting and laughter of the
merry-makers.
Poor Viking could not understand it, and I suppose he came to the
conclusion that his human friends had all lost hold of the tiny supply
of common-sense, which human beings can boast of.
But what with these games and dances, and then fun on board, the health
of the crew continued excellent, though ever around the galley-fire at
night (I mean before bed-time or at the tea hour) the men talked of
home.
I myself, like most seafarers,--well, call us sailors if that sounds
better,--dearly love
"A life on the ocean wave
And a home on the rolling deep,
Where the scattered waters rave
And the winds their revels keep".
Yet wherever in this world I have been there always seemed to be a
magnetic needle in my heart, and it always pointed to Home.
"Where'er we roam, whatever lands we see
Our hearts untramelled fondly turn to thee
* * * * *
Such is the patriot's boast; where'er we roam,
Our first, best country, ever is at home."
On the whole, during their long imprisonment, the officers and crew of
the good barque _Flora M'Vayne_ kept up their hearts.
At long last the sun came nearer and nearer the northern horizon. For
days before he rose there was a twilight of about two hours. Then a
galaxy of the loveliest clouds were lit up, but still no sun.
Before noon on the day after, however, Frank and Conal, who seemed now
to be inseparable, climbed to the top of the tobogganing berg, and soon
after caught a glimpse of the glorious sun.
Neither could speak for a time, and indeed tears were trickling down
Frank's face, which he took no trouble to hide. For, as we have seen
before, he was a very impressionable lad.
"Oh, the sun! the sun!" That was all he said, but next minute both were
waving their hats to those on board and shouting:
"The sun! the sun!"
And such a cheer uprose from that long-imprisoned ship, as never before
probably was heard in these southern regions of perpetual snow and ice.
High above all, the boys could hear the barking of noble Vike.
Yes, but a moment after, and high above even that, across the
intervening ice came the wild skirl of Duncan's Highland bagpipe.
Duncan was playing the March of the Cameron Men as he walked boldly up
and down in the waist of the ship, while Frank and Conal on the
ice-block could not help chiming in with just one verse of that brave
old song, which has thrilled so many a heart on bank or brae or
battlefield:
"Ah! proudly they march, though each Cameron knows
He may tread on the heather no more,
Yet boldly he follows his chief to the field
Where his laurels were gathered before".
"Yes, Frank, but we shall tread the heather again, sha'n't we, friend?"
"I hope so, and I mean to have a good try anyhow," was Frank's hearty
reply.
----
Their dangers, however, were not all over yet. Not by a deal. In a
still ice-pack like that in which they had lain so long, there is not
very much to be feared except the danger of a nip or jam. But when the
ice begins to open and the wind begins to blow, ah! then toil and
trouble commence in earnest.
From observations, Captain Talbot now discovered that the immense field
of ice on which they had been lying, had been gradually forcing its way
on the current almost directly north, and that even Mount Sabine and the
Admiralty Mountains were now a long way astern to the west.
And soon now the wind began to blow and howl; almost half a gale from
the south-east by east. The noise, as it roared through the rigging and
bare poles, was almost deafening, but this did not prevent these brave
mariners from hearing every now and then the loud explosions on the
ice-pack that heralded the breaking up of the whole, and that had been
but a day or two ago a vast plain strong enough to have reviewed all the
artillery in the world upon, would soon be but a chaos of rolling,
dashing ice. The storm continued for more than a week, and all that
time--every hour, in fact--the _Flora M'Vayne_ had been in peril and
danger.
Gallant ship! How well she stood the squeezing, the cannonading, the
battering! A vessel less strong in every timber, or one built of teak
instead of Scottish oak would have collapsed and gone down in a few
minutes, carrying the crew with her, or leaving them almost naked,
hungry, and helpless on the pack, to die a death ten times more cruel
than drowning.
She got perilously near to the shore at last, however. It must have been
somewhere close to Yule or Robertson Bay, for Cape Adare had been left a
long way astern.
They were close enough to see that certain destruction awaited them if
unable to change their position. The pancake and bay ice was piled along
the rugged shore, hills high, one piece above another, by the terrible
force of wind and current.
When soundings were taken, and it was found that there was but little
depth of water to spare, and that even this was gradually lessening,
then both Morgan and the skipper became alarmed.
"We must set sail," said the latter, "and try to bring her up a few
points, or, depend upon it, our risky voyage will come to a sudden end."
All hands were called.