Who can imagine or describe the feelings of Captain Vane and his young
relatives on finding themselves sweeping at such a magnificent rate over
the great Polar basin?--that mysterious sea, which some believe to be a
sea of thick-ribbed ice, and others suppose to be no sea at all, but dry
land covered with eternal snows. One theorist even goes the length of
saying that the region immediately around the Pole is absolutely nothing
at all!--only empty space caused by the whirling of the earth,--a space
which extends through its centre from pole to pole!
Much amusement did the Captain derive from the contemplation of these
theories as he crossed over the grand and boundless ocean, and chatted
pleasantly with his son, or Chingatok, or Toolooha, who formed the crew
of his little boat.
The party consisted of thirteen, all told. These were distributed as
follows:--
In the Captain's boat were the three just mentioned.
In Leo's boat were Butterface, Oolichuk, and Oblooria. How it came to
pass that Oolichuk and Oblooria were put into the same boat no one
seemed to know, or indeed to care, except Oolichuk himself, who, to
judge from the expression of his fat face, was much pleased. As for
Oblooria, her mild visage always betokened contentment or resignation--
save when overshadowed by timidity.
In Alf's boat were Anders, Ivitchuk, Akeetolik, and Tekkona. The
interpreter had been given to Alf because he was not quite so muscular
or energetic as the Captain or his brother, while Anders was eminently
strong and practical. The Eskimo women counted as men, being as expert
with oar and paddle as they, and very nearly as strong as most ordinary
men.
What added to the romance of the first day's experience was the fact
that, a few hours after they started, a dead calm settled down over the
sea, which soon became like a great sheet of undulating glass, in which
the rich, white clouds, the clear sky, and the boats with their crews,
were reflected as in a moving, oily mirror; yet, strange to say, the
kites kept steady, and the pace of ten or twelve miles an hour did not
abate for a considerable time. This, of course, was owing to the fact
that there was a continuous current blowing northward in the higher
regions of the atmosphere. The sun, meantime, glowed overhead with four
mock-suns around him, nevertheless the heat was not oppressive, partly
because the voyagers were sitting at rest, and partly because a slight
current of cool air, the creation of their own progress, fanned their
cheeks. Still further to add to the charm, flocks of sea-birds circling
in the air or dipping in the water, a berg or two floating in the
distance, a porpoise showing its back fin now and then, a seal or a
walrus coming up to stare in surprise and going down to meditate,
perhaps in wonder, with an occasional puff from a lazy whale,--all this
tended to prevent monotony, and gave life to the lovely scene.
"Is it not the most glorious and altogether astonishing state of things
you ever heard or dreamed of, father?" asked Benjy, breaking a prolonged
silence.
"Out o' sight, my boy, out o' sight," replied the Captain. "Never heard
nor saw nor dreamed of anything like it before."
"P'raps it _is_ a dream!" said Benjy, with a slightly distressed look.
"How are we ever to know that we're _not_ dreaming?"
The boy finished his question with a sharp cry and leaped up.
"Steady, boy, steady! Have a care, or you'll upset the boat," said the
Captain.
"What did you do _that_ for, father?"
"What, my boy?"
"Pinch me so hard! Surely you didn't do it on purpose?"
"Indeed I did, Ben," replied the Captain with a laugh. "You asked how
you were to know you were not dreaming. If you had been dreaming that
would have wakened you--wouldn't it?"
"I dare say it would, father," returned the boy, resuming his seat, "but
I'm convinced now. Don't do it again, please. I wish I knew what
Chingatok thinks of it. Try to ask him, father. I'm sure you've had
considerable experience in his lingo by this time."
Benjy referred here, not only to the numerous conversations which his
father had of late carried on with the giant through the interpreter,
but to the fact that, having been a whaler in years past, Captain Vane
had previously picked up a smattering of various Eskimo dialects. Up to
that day he had conversed entirely through the medium of Anders, but as
that useful man was now in Alf's boat, the Captain was left to his own
resources, and got on much better than he had expected.
Chingatok turned his eyes from the horizon on which they had been fixed,
and looked dreamily at the Captain when asked what he was thinking
about.
"I have been thinking," said he, "of home, _my_ home over there." He
lifted his huge right arm and pointed to the north. "And I have been
thinking," he continued, "that there must be another home up there." He
raised his hand and pointed to the sky.
"Why do you think so?" asked the Captain in some surprise.
"Because it is so beautiful, so wonderful, so full of light and peace,"
replied the Eskimo. "Sometimes the clouds, and the wind, and the rain,
come and cover it; but they pass away, and there it is, just the same,
always calm, and bright, and beautiful. Could such a place have been
made for nothing? Is there no one up there? not even the Maker of it?
and if there is, does he stay there alone? Men and women die, but
surely there is something in us that does not die. If there is no
spirit in us that lives, of what use was it to make us at all? I think
we shall have a home up there."
Chingatok had again turned his eyes to the horizon, and spoke the
concluding words as if he were thinking aloud. The Captain looked at
him earnestly for some time in silence.
"You are right, Chingatok," he said at length, or at least attempted to
say as best he could--"you are right. My religion teaches me that we
have spirits; that God--your God and mine--dwells up there in what we
call heaven, and that His people shall dwell with him after death."
"His people!" repeated the Eskimo with a perplexed look. "Are some men
his people and some not?"
"Undoubtedly," replied the Captain, "men who obey a chief's commands are
_his_ men--his friends. Those who refuse to obey, and do every kind of
wickedness, are _not_ his friends, but his enemies. God has given us
free-wills, and we may reject him--we may choose to be his enemies."
It must not be supposed that Captain Vane expressed himself thus
clearly, but the above is the substance of what he attempted by many a
strange and complicated sentence to convey. That he had made his
meaning to some extent plain, was proved by Chingatok's reply.
"But I do not know God's commands; how then can I obey them?"
"You may not know them by book," replied the Captain promptly; "for you
have no books, but there is such a thing as the commands or law of God
written in the heart, and it strikes me, Chingatok, that you both know
and obey more of your Maker's laws than many men who have His word."
To this the Eskimo made no answer, for he did not rightly understand it,
and as the Captain found extreme difficulty in expressing his meaning on
such questions, he was quite willing to drop the conversation.
Nevertheless his respect for Chingatok was immensely increased from that
day forward.
He tried to explain what had been said to Benjy, and as that youth's
mind was of an inquiring turn he listened with great interest, but at
last was forced to confess that it was too deep for him. Thereafter he
fell into a mood of unusual silence, and pondered the matter for a long
time.
Awaking from his reverie at last, he said, abruptly, "How's her head,
father?"
"Due north, Benjy."
He pulled out a pocket-compass about the size of an ordinary watch,
which instrument it was his habit to guard with the most anxious care.
"North!" repeated the boy, glancing at the instrument with a look of
surprise, "why, we're steering almost due east!"
"Ah! Ben, that comes of your judging from appearances without
knowledge, not an uncommon state of mind in man and boy, to say nothing
of woman. Don't you know what variation of the compass is?"
"No, father."
"What! have you been so long at sea with me and never heard yet about
the magnetic pole?"
"Never a word, father. It seems to me that poles are multiplying as we
get further north."
"Oh, Benjy, for shame--fie! fie!"
"Maybe if you had told me about it I might have had less to be shamed
of, and you too, father."
"That's true, Benjy. That's true. You're a sharp boy for your age.
But don't be disrespectful to your father, Ben; no good can ever come o'
that. Whatever you are, be respectful to your old father. Come, I'll
tell you about it now."
It will have been observed by this time that little Benjamin Vane was
somewhat free in his converse with his father, but it must not therefore
be supposed that he was really insolent. All his freedom of speech was
vented in good humour, and the Captain knew that. There was, indeed, a
powerful bond not only of affection but of sympathy between the little
delicate boy and the big strong man. They thoroughly understood each
other, and between those who understand each other there may be much
freedom without offence, as everybody knows.
"You must understand," began the Captain, "that although the needle of
the mariner's compass is said to point to the north with its head and to
the south with its tail, it does not do so exactly, because the magnetic
poles do not coincide exactly with the geographical poles. There are
two magnetic poles just as there are two geographical poles, one in the
southern hemisphere, the other in the northern. D'ye understand!"
"Clear as daylight, father."
"Well, Benjy, the famous Arctic discoverer, Sir James Ross, in 1832,
discovered that the northern magnetic pole was situated in the island of
Boothia Felix, in latitude 70 degrees 5 seconds and longitude 96 degrees
46 seconds West. It was discovered by means of an instrument called the
dipping needle, which is just a magnetised needle made for dipping
perpendicularly instead of going round horizontally like the mariner's
compass. A graduated arc is fitted to it so that the amount of dip at
any place on the earth's surface can be ascertained. At the magnetic
equator there is no dip at all, because the needle being equally distant
from the north and south magnetic poles, remains horizontal. As you
travel north the needle dips more and more until it reaches the region
of the north magnetic pole when it is almost perpendicular--pointing
straight down.
"Now, it is only on a very few places of the earth's surface that the
horizontal needle points to the true north and south, and its deviation
from the _earth's_ pole in its determination to point to the _magnetic_
pole is called the variation of the compass. This variation is greater
or less of course at different places, and must be allowed for in
estimating one's exact course. In our present explorations we have got
so far beyond the beaten track of travel that greater allowance than
usual has to be made. In fact we have got considerably to the north of
the magnetic pole. At the same time we are a good way to the east'ard
of it, so that when I see the compass with its letter N pointing to what
I know to be the magnetic north, I take our geographical position into
account and steer almost due east by _compass_, for the purpose of
advancing due north. D'ye see?"
"I'm not so sure that I do, father. It seems to me something like the
Irishman's pig which you pull one way when you want him to go another.
However, I'll take your word for it."
"That's right, my boy; when a man can't understand, he must act on
faith, if he _can_, for there's no forcing our beliefs, you know.
Anyhow he must be content to follow till he does understand; always
supposing that he can trust his leader."
"I'm out of my depths altogether now, father. P'r'aps we'd better
change the subject. What d'ye say to try a race with Leo? His boat
seems to be overhauling us."
"No, no, Ben; no racing. Let us advance into the great unknown north
with suitable solemnity."
"We appear to sail rather better than you do, uncle," shouted Leo, as
his boat drew near.
"That's because you're not so heavily-laden," replied the Captain,
looking back; "you haven't got giants aboard, you see; moreover there's
one o' you rather light-headed."
"Hallo! uncle; evil communications, eh? You'd better change Benjy for
Oblooria. She's quite quiet, and never jokes. I say, may I go ahead of
you?"
"No, lad, you mayn't. Take a reef in your regulator, and drop into your
proper place."
Obedient to orders, Leo pulled the regulator or check-string until the
kite's position was altered so as to present less resistance to the
wind, and dropped astern of the _Faith_, which was the name given by
Benjy to his father's boat, the other two being named respectively the
_Hope_ and the _Charity_.
The prosperous advance did not, however, last very long. Towards
evening the three kites suddenly, and without any previous warning,
began to dive, soar, flutter, and tumble about in a manner that would
have been highly diverting if it had not been dangerous. This no doubt
was the effect of various counter-currents of air into which they had
flown. The order was at once given to haul on the regulators and coil
up the towing lines. It was promptly obeyed, but before a few fathoms
had been coiled in, the kites again became as steady as before, with
this change, however, that they travelled in a north-westerly direction.
The value of the leeboards now became apparent.
These were hinged down the middle so as to fold and become small enough
to stow in the bottom of each boat when not in use. When unfolded and
hung over the side, they presented a surface of resistance to the water
much greater than that of an ordinary boat's keel, so that very little
leeway indeed was made. By means of the steering-oar Captain Vane kept
his boat advancing straight northward, while the kite was puffing in a
north-westerly direction. The kite was thus compelled by the boat also
to travel due north, though of course it did so in a sidelong manner.
Thus far the advance continued prosperously, the pace being but little
checked and the course unaltered, but when, an hour or two later, the
wind again shifted so as to carry the kites further to the west, the
pace became much slower, and the leeway, or drift to leeward,
considerable. Ultimately the wind blew straight to the west, and the
boats ceased to advance. "This won't do, uncle," said Leo, who was
close astern of the _Faith_, "I'm drifting bodily to leeward, and making
no headway at all."
"Down with the tops,--I mean, the kites," shouted the Captain. "Pass
the word to Alf."
Accordingly, the kites were reeled in, the regulators being so pulled
and eased off that they were kept just fluttering without tugging during
the operation. When, however, they passed out of the wind-stratum into
the region of calm which still prevailed immediately above the sea, the
kites descended in an alarming manner, swaying to and fro with
occasional wild swoops, which rendered it necessary to haul in on the
lines and reel up with the utmost speed.
Captain Vane was very successful in this rather difficult operation.
While he hauled in the line Benjy reeled it up with exemplary speed, and
the kite was finally made to descend on the boat like a cloud. When
secured the locking-cross was removed, the distending-rods were folded
inwards, the restraining, or what we may term the waist-band was
applied, and the whole affair was changed into a gigantic Mrs Gamp
umbrella. Being placed in the bow of the boat, projecting over the
water, it formed a not ungraceful though peculiar bowsprit, and was well
out of the way.
Leo and Butterface were equally successful, but poor Alf was not so
fortunate. The too eager pursuit of knowledge was the cause of Alf's
failure as has often been the case with others! He took on himself, as
chief of his boat, the difficult and responsible task of hauling in the
line,--which involved also the occasional and judicious manipulation of
the regulating cord, when a sudden puff of wind should tend to send the
kite soaring upwards with six or eight horse-power into the sky. To
Ivitchuk was assigned the easy task of gathering in the "slack" and
holding on to Alf if a sudden jerk should threaten to pull him
overboard. Anders reeled up.
Just as the kite was passing out of the windy region above into the calm
region below Alf beheld floating near the boat a beautiful, and to him
entirely new, species of marine creature of the jelly-fish kind. With a
wild desire to possess it he leaned over the boat's edge to the
uttermost and stretched out his left hand, while with his right he held
on to the kite! Need we say that the kite assisted him?--assisted him
overboard altogether, and sent him with a heavy plunge into the sea!
Ivitchuk dropped his line and stretched out both arms towards the spot
where the "Kablunet" had gone down. Akeetolik roared. Anders howled,
and dropped his reel. Left to itself, the kite, with characteristic
indecision, made an awful swoop towards the North Pole with its right
shoulder. Changing its mind, it then made a stupendous rush with its
left to the south-east. Losing presence of mind it suddenly tossed up
its tail, and, coming down head foremost, went with fatal facility into
the deep sea.
When Alf rose and was dragged panting into the boat, his first glance
was upwards,--but not in thankfulness for his preservation!
"Gone!" he groaned, rising to his feet.
But the kite was not gone. The word had barely left his lips when it
rose half its length out of the water, and then fell, in melancholy
inaptitude for further mischief, flat upon the sea.
"Anything damaged?" asked the Captain, as he and Leo rowed their boats
towards the _Charity_.
"Nothing," replied Alf with a guilty look, "the stick and things seem to
be all right, but it has got _awfully_ wet."
"No matter," said the Captain, laughing at Alf's forlorn look, "the sun
will soon dry it. So long as nothing is broken or torn, we'll get on
very well. But now, boys, we must go to work with oars. There must be
no flagging in this dash for the Pole. It's a neck-or-nothing business.
Now, mark my orders. Although we've got four oars apiece, we must only
work two at a time. I know that young bloods like you are prone to go
straining yourselves at first, an' then bein' fit for nothing
afterwards. We must keep it up steadily. Two in each boat will pull at
a time for one hour, while the other two rest or sleep, and so on, shift
about; till another breeze springs up. Don't fold it up tight, Alf.
Leave it pretty slack till it is dry, and then put on its belt."
"Don't you think we might have supper before taking to the oars?"
suggested Leo.
"I second that motion," cried Benjy.
"And I support it," said Alf.
"Very good, get out the prog; an' we'll lay ourselves alongside, three
abreast, as Nelson did at the Battle o' the Nile," said the Captain.
Their food was simple but sufficient. Pemmican--a solid greasy
nutricious compound--was the foundation. Hard biscuit, chocolate, and
sugar formed the superstructure. In default of fire, these articles
could be eaten cold, but while their supply of spirits of wine lasted, a
patent Vesuvian of the most complete and almost miraculous nature could
provide a hot meal in ten minutes. Of fresh water they had a two-weeks'
supply in casks, but this was economised by means of excellent water
procured from a pond in a passing berg--from which also a lump of clear
ice had been hewn, wrapped in a blanket, and carried into the Captain's
boat as a supply of fresh water in solid form.
Laying the oars across the boats to keep them together, they floated
thus pleasantly on the glassy sea, bathed in midnight sunshine. And
while they feasted in comfort inexpressible--to the surprise, no doubt,
of surrounding gulls and puffins--Benjamin Vane once again gave
utterance to the opinion that it was the most glorious and altogether
astonishing state of things that he had ever heard or dreamed of since
the world began!