AN EXCITING ICE-BOAT ADVENTURE.
During six delightful weeks of travel and sightseeing through the
wonderfully picturesque scenery of Sweden and Norway, Percy was again
the comrade and escort of Dolores.
Day by day a thousand nameless acts of kindness and respectful
unobtrusive attentions, as thoughtful as they were delicate, endeared
him to the heart, at whose portal love, clothed in his most ancient and
most successful disguise of friendship, was effecting an entrance.
It was late in November when the party returned to Copenhagen.
"My business matters will detain me here a week, possibly ten days,"
Percy said. "You will need that time to thoroughly enjoy the Thorvaldsen
and the Ethnological Museums--which are in their way the finest in the
world. Then I shall be ready to escort you to Paris, before I report
myself at London."
Madame Volkenburg returned to Christiania the day previous to the
intended departure of her friends. But at the expiration of the week,
just as Percy was planning to make an exit from the cold bleak Island,
Dolores sprained her ankle, and was unable to leave her room during four
weeks. Percy found business enough to employ a few hours of each day in
the interest of the London and American houses, and the remainder of the
time he passed agreeably in entertaining the ladies. He read aloud, told
interesting stories of adventure and travel, and made himself so
thoroughly charming that Dolores forgot her misfortune in view of the
happy hours it brought her.
When she at length declared herself able to proceed upon her journey
another obstacle presented itself. The weather became unusually cold;
and the Sounds, surrounding the island on which Copenhagen is situated,
were packed with jagged blocks of ice, too thick to be broken by a
steamer, but not sufficiently connected to make it safe for men or
teams to venture on them. Our friends were prisoners, consequently, upon
an almost inaccessible island.
"The blockade cannot last forever," Percy said, when he had informed the
ladies of the condition of matters. "That is all the consolation I can
give you at present. It may last a week, or a month, I am led to
understand. In the meantime, we must enjoy ourselves as best we can. I
am very sorry Madame Volkenburg did not remain with us, to share a
little jaunt to Kaskilde--the ancient Capital of Denmark, which we will
make to-morrow."
"What is there to see at Kaskilde?" inquired Dolores.
"A cathedral, of course," Percy answered. "No doubt you are tired of
cathedrals, but this is a famous one: a relic of the ancient grandeur of
the city when it numbered 100,000 souls. Its population is less than
5,000 now. You will find much to interest you there, as this building
has been the burial-place of nearly all the Danish kings."
Kaskilde was not more than twenty miles from Copenhagen, and accessible
by rail.
Dolores was surprised to find many of the tombs exquisitely carved with
marble and alabaster. One of the most interesting bore the life-sized
figure of Queen Margaret, who died in 1412. The beautifully-portrayed
features, full of expression, were declared to be a correct likeness of
the fair queen.
In the centre of the church upon a large iron slab set into the floor,
it was recorded that "This spot is purchased by Nils Jurgersen, of the
Church, as a resting place for his posterity for all time to come: in
order that his family need not change their burial-place every twenty
years, _as other people do_." But in spite of this sarcastic reference
to other people, the royal mandate went forth, that no more people not
of royal blood should be buried in the church. And Nils Jurgersen's
descendants are obliged to sleep out of doors, like "other people,"
after all.
High up in the nave of the church stood a huge clock. Before it two
half-sized figures carved in wood. At the end of each hour, the man
struck the time with a hammer upon the face of the clock: while the
quarter-hours were struck by the woman against a small bell.
"This little old couple have been faithful to each other during four
hundred years," said Percy, as he stood beside Dolores watching the
figures. "Is not that a wonderful illustration of constancy?"
"Yes," Dolores answered, laughing. "Such illustrations are readily
found, in wood. But how presumptive of man--to produce such an example,
when the Creator gave him no human precedent!"
"I must tell you about the clock," continued Percy. "Originally, there
were figures of St. George upon a horse, fighting the Dragon. Every time
the clock struck, the Dragon sprang upon the horse, and the latter gave
a wild scream. But there was an old priest who complained that the noise
of this battle disturbed him in his preaching: so the Knight and the
Dragon--wonderful pieces of mechanism--were destroyed to please one
conceited old egotist. And, furthermore, he commanded that the faithful
old couple should be compelled to keep the Sabbath like other people.
The machinery of the clock was so arranged, in accordance with his
wishes, that no hours have been struck on the Sabbath since that time."
Hanging in a prominent part of the church, Mrs. Butler discovered a
painting which amused her greatly. It represented the devil, well horned
and hoofed, gazing sharply at the pews, in his hand a pencil and a
scroll. On the latter was inscribed: "I make a note of all those who
come late or go around and tattle."
"I wish I were able to purchase this painting and send it over to
America," Mrs. Butler remarked. "We need it there, I am sure."
At the expiration of two weeks, the blockade still continued. The whole
Baltic, as well as the North Sea, was one mass of floating ice, which
the powerful currents and tides in the connecting channels kept in
motion.
If the reader has not visited this portion of Europe, by glancing at any
map he will see that the Northwestern part of Denmark consists of two
islands. The Western is known as Funem, the Eastern as Zealand.
The "Great Belt," as the channel between them is called, is from fifteen
to twenty miles wide in the narrowest portion, and is so called to
distinguish it from the channel between Funem and the mainland, known as
the "Little Belt."
In ordinary years, these straits remain sufficiently open, so that
steamers can cross regularly; or else they freeze solidly, allowing
sleighs to transfer freight and passengers.
But now, Copenhagen was entirely cut off from all communication with the
outside world.
Percy was told, however, that an effort was being made to carry the
mails across the Sound in a sort of ice-boat.
On investigation, he discovered that these ice-boats were in fact large,
strongly-built fishing-smacks, with iron runners on the bottom. Each
boat carried a crew of eight or ten weather-beaten old fishermen.
"If you can convey the mails across the Channel in those boats, why
can't you carry passengers?" Percy asked as he stood inspecting the
smacks the day before their intended venture.
The men laughed, and gave him to understand in broken German--the
language he had used--that any man could go who had the courage to make
the attempt.
As he related this to Mrs. Butler and Dolores a little later, he said:
"If I had the least idea when navigation would open and permit you to
make your escape, I would go on the ice-boat to-morrow. Business cares
begin to weigh upon me heavily. But I do not like to leave you
imprisoned here for an indefinite time."
"Why could not we, too, go by the ice-boat?" suggested Dolores.
"Impossible!" cried Percy, aghast.
"By no means. We are experienced travelers, and the adventure would be
exhilarating after our long imprisonment here. If the crew are opposed,
I will go myself and talk them into consenting."
"Although they could not understand a word you speak, I know you would
win their consent to anything," laughed Percy. "But I will see if the
plan is practicable."
An hour later, he returned from a second interview with the ice-boat
crew.
"You can go," he said, "if your courage will sustain you. Reduce your
hand luggage to the smallest possible compass, and be prepared to start
for Korsör this P. M. at five o'clock. We remain there over night. We
take passage in the boat early in the morning. Two other gentlemen are
to accompany us, so we shall not die alone."
In the chilly dawn of the following morning our little party stood
wondering where they were to be stored in those queer-looking
smacks--one loaded with the heavier baggage, the other half-filled with
mail bags. The ladies were soon told to take seats in the rear boat,
among the mail bags; while the men were instructed to run alongside, and
to be prepared to spring into it at a moment's notice. The crew pulled
on a long rope attached to the prow of the boat, and it gave a lurch
forward.
For thirty or forty rods from shore, the ice was solid, and slanted down
toward the water. The boats glided along easily and rapidly. The ladies
laughed gleefully and enjoyed the novel mode of locomotion.
All the crew, and the three gentlemen passengers, were provided with
huge straw overshoes, the soles fully two inches thick. These served to
protect their feet from the cold, and prevented slipping on the ice.
"What rare good sport!" cried Dolores, looking like a Russian princess
in her furs, as she smiled up into Percy's face, while he ran lightly
along beside her.
"It is like the coasting days of childhood on a large scale."
Just then there came an ominous cracking sound, and suddenly the forward
boat crashed through the ice, which gave way for rods in every
direction. The rear boat went shooting down an inclined plane into the
water. The ladies shrieked, the crew shouted, the boat turned over on
its side, but was speedily righted.
Percy succeeded in springing into the boat before it reached the open
sea, but the other two passengers clung to its side, their legs dangling
in the icy water.
The forward crew threw out a long rope and a plank, and, getting out on
the ice, pulled the boat along a few lengths. The rear boat was pushed
along in its wake through the broken ice. As they proceeded farther from
the shore, the ice became more uneven. Where it was strong, the crew
propelled the boats by means of the ropes; but where it was shaky or
broken, the oars and boards were brought into requisition. The old
seamen found constant amusement in the terrified screams of Mrs. Butler,
every time they crashed through the ice, while Dolores seemed to enjoy
the excitement with an almost childish delight.
Upon a sort of sand-bar in one place, which marked the boundary between
the fixed or land-ice, and the loose cakes floating in the Sound,
immense blocks had been crowded into all sorts of fantastic shapes,
forming an irregular rampart thirty or forty feet high.
Beyond this, the crew was able to keep the boat in the water most of the
time, winding in and out among the islands of ice.
Once, they were caught in a narrow strip of water between two ice-floes.
Then the crew became excited, and hurriedly ran the boat up on the ice
out of harm's way. A few minutes later, the edges of the ice-floes began
to grind together and double up, impelled by the tremendous currents
underneath.
Dolores, who had grown very pale, while they were in this perilous
situation, shivered slightly, as she heard the grinding of the
ice-floes, and suddenly swayed back unconscious.
Percy reached out his arm just in time to receive her inanimate form.
The swoon lasted but a moment: yet during that moment Percy experienced
the delicious pleasure of holding her fair head upon his shoulder, of
clasping her lovely shape against his heart. All his well-controlled
emotions seemed to cry out against their long constraint; and a sudden
desire to seize her in his arms and cover her beautiful face with kisses
might have overruled his reason, his sense of propriety and his good
breeding, had she not opened her eyes and drawn herself out of his arms.
"How foolish I am," she said. "But I really thought we were to be
crushed between those great ice jaws. I will not be so weak again."
"Please do," whispered Percy. "It was the happiest moment of my life."
His warm audible breath fanned her cheek; his eyes were full of a fire
she had never before seen in them; her blood tingled through her veins,
producing a slight intoxication. Her lids drooped, her cheek crimsoned,
but she did not rebuke him for his speech or his glance.
A strange, sweet languor filled her heart, and rendered any commonplace
remark impossible. For the first time in her life she was conscious of a
vague pleasure in the close proximity of a human being.
Out in the middle of the Sound they could see the black smoke of the
steamer "Absolem" awaiting them in a long strip of open sea. By noon
they were within a mile of her: and here the crew stopped their boats
in the middle of an ice-floe, and served a sort of Arctic dinner.
An hour later, they reached the steamer; the mails and passengers were
transferred and the ice-boats returned to Korsör.
The "Absolem" had been two days and two nights in the ice, and had
narrowly escaped destruction among the sunken rocks, whither it had been
carried by the powerful ice currents.
But now, with an open sea before them, they approached the western
shore. As they neared Nyborg, Percy called the attention of the ladies
to the remarkable thickness of the land ice. And to their surprise a few
moments later, they saw the ship make fast to this clearly-defined and
solid ice pier, and unload its freight and passengers as readily as if
it had been in harbor.
Here they were huddled into Russian sleighs, and driven rapidly to the
station at Nyborg, where they took the train for Hamburg.