A FIGHT WITH POLAR BEARS
"Look out, he's coming for you!" shouted Barwell Dawson.
Both Chet and Andy heard the words, but paid no attention. Their guns
were raised, and each was aiming at the bear nearest to him. Crack! went
Andy's firearm, and the polar bear was halted by a wound in the forepaw.
Chet was not so fortunate, as his gun failed to go off. The next instant
the polar bear leaped on him and bore him to the ice. As boy and beast
went down, Barwell Dawson opened fire, and the bear was hit in the side,
a wound that made him more savage than ever.
Although Chet was sent sprawling, he did not lose his presence of mind.
As quick as a flash he rolled over, from under the very forepaws of the
polar bear, and continued to roll, down a slight hill to one side.
By this time Andy and Mr. Dawson were firing again, and Olalola, coming
up, used several spears with telling effect. At the increase in
noise,--the Esquimau adding his yells to the cracks of the weapons,--one
after another of the bears turned and commenced to run away.
"Don't go after them!" sang out Barwell Dawson. "They may turn again, if
you do. Shoot them from a distance."
Once more he discharged his gun, and Andy did likewise. Then Chet
scrambled up and used his firearm, the piece this time responding to the
touch on the trigger.
Another of the bears was now killed outright, while the largest of the
group was badly wounded in the hind quarters. This bear dropped behind
the others and, drawing closer, Chet let him have a shot in the ear that
finished him. The other beasts disappeared behind a hummock of ice, and
that was the last seen of them.
"Are you hurt?" asked Andy of his chum, as soon as the excitement was
over, and while all were reloading their weapons and the Esquimau was
securing his spears.
"Got a scratch on the back of the neck," answered Chet. "It's bleeding a
little, but that's all. Say, this is a dandy haul, isn't it?" he
continued, enthusiastically.
"We must be more careful in the future," said Barwell Dawson. "Usually
polar bears are timid and run away, but these chaps must have been very
hungry, and that made them aggressive."
The largest of the polar bears was all of eight feet long, and
correspondingly heavy. To lift him on the sledge was no easy task, and
with the others, the hunters found they had all the game the dogs could
drag over the ice and snow.
"We may as well start for the ship at once," said Barwell Dawson.
"Olalola thinks a snowstorm is coming, and we don't want to get caught
out in it if we can help it."
They returned to where they had encamped for the night, and picked up
the few belongings left there. Then they started direct for the shelters
put up near the ship.
The last half-mile of the journey was covered in a heavy snowstorm, and
all were glad when they caught sight of the _Ice King_. They found
Captain Williamson and Professor Jeffer on the deck, watching for them.
"I was afraid you would be snowbound," said the captain.
He and the professor were astonished at the sight of the polar bears.
The game was taken to one of the storehouses, where some of the natives
were set to work to prepare it for use during the winter now close at
hand.
It had been arranged that the Esquimaux and some of the sailors were to
live on shore, while Barwell Dawson and his party, and the captain and
engineer and two others, remained on the steamer. Thus all had more
"elbow room" than if they had crowded the entire party in one place or
the other. From the hold of the vessel several large lamps were produced
and put into readiness for use.
"The darkness of the winter months is the worst feature of a trip to
these parts," explained Barwell Dawson to the boys. "Of course, I hope
for a great deal of moonlight, but even so the dark days are many, and
lights are absolutely necessary."
"The darkness has a strange effect on some people," said Professor
Jeffer. "I have heard of sailors going mad because of it. But I trust
nothing of the sort happens to any one in our party."
After that, there was a good deal to do for a week around the ship and
up at the hut, and the days passed swiftly. Then, one clear morning, the
explorer called to Andy and Chet.
"Come with me, if you want to get your last look at the sun for some
months," said he.
They left the _Ice King_ and walked to the top of an icy cliff a mile
away. Professor Jeffer was with them, and so were Dr. Slade and Mr.
Camdal.
On the top of the cliff they had to wait nearly an hour before the sun
showed itself. The long beams of light flashed across the ice, and then
gradually grew dimmer and dimmer, and then disappeared altogether.
"Gone!" said Chet, in a low tone. All had been very silent for several
minutes.
"Yes," answered Barwell Dawson. "And you'll not see the sun again until
next February!"
"What a night!" murmured Andy, and somehow his heart seemed to sink
within him.
It was a silent party that returned to the ship. Andy and Chet both
began to wonder how the long spell of darkness was going to affect them.
"It won't be so bad the first few days--or nights," said Andy. "But after
that----" He finished with a grave shake of his head.
"Let us try to occupy our minds with work and by reading," answered
Chet. "I guess it's the only way to keep from going crazy."
The lights were lit after that, and kept burning brightly all through
the long winter--one large lamp on the deck of the _Ice King_, and
another equally large in front of the hut on shore. Smaller lamps were
likewise kept burning constantly indoors.
Hunting continued from week to week, and the boys aided in the shooting
of more polar bears, and also in bringing down several large musk oxen.
The musk oxen, with heads resembling big buffalo bulls, were a source of
great wonder to the lads.
"This is hunting, and no mistake," said Andy. "I wonder what the fellows
in Maine would say to these, if they could see them."
"Beats moose hunting, doesn't it, Andy?"
"Rather. By the way, Chet, I'd like to know how my Uncle Si is making
out."
"He ought to be up here. Phew! wouldn't he complain of the cold! It was
38 deg. below zero this morning!"
"I know it, and Professor Jeffer says it will be colder than that before
long."
They had to guard carefully against the cold, for it would have been an
easy matter to have an ear or one's nose frostbitten. As it was, one of
the sailors had a big toe "nipped" by the frost, and suffered greatly
because of it. The boys found it unwise even to touch anything metallic
with a bare hand, for fear the member would get "burnt" or cling fast.
It was late in November that something happened which disturbed the
party not a little. Late in the day, while Andy and Chet were dozing in
their bunks, they not having anything to do, there came a curious
grinding sound from the sides of the _Ice King_.
"What is that?" asked Andy, as he sat up and rubbed his eyes.
"Bless me if I know," responded Chet. "Let us go on deck and see."
They donned their fur coats and mitts, and ran out on the deck just as
the grinding increased. They found Captain Williamson and Barwell Dawson
engaged in earnest conversation.
"It's the ice pack," explained the explorer. "It is closing in on us."
"Closing in!" cried Andy. "Why, it's as close in now as it can get!"
"Not quite," was the grim reply.
"Why, do you mean----" Andy stopped short.
"Isn't the _Ice King_ strong enough to stand the pressure?" questioned
Chet.
"The steamer is braced to stand a great deal. But this ice has an
enormous power," replied Captain Williamson. "If it comes against us too
strongly, it may crush the ship like an eggshell."
At first the commander could think of nothing to do to relieve the
vessel, but presently it was suggested that the ice be chopped away from
the bow and one side in a slanting direction. All hands, including the
boys, went at the work, with picks, and crowbars, and spades.
It was a fight against nature and the elements, and never did men and
boys work harder. As they labored, the ice of the vast pack continued to
move closer to the ship, causing the _Ice King_ to groan and crack in
every timber.
"If she breaks, jump for your lives!" cried Captain Williamson. He was
more anxious than words can describe, yet he managed to keep cool, and
directed the work as well as he was able.
By night the ice had been chopped away to the depth of a foot and a half
the entire length of the vessel. Then the wind, which had been blowing
strongly from one direction, shifted to another, and the pressure on the
vessel let up a little.
"I think we are safe for the present," said the captain. "All hands can
rest for a few hours. But come in a hurry if I blow the whistle."
Utterly exhausted by their labors, the boys went to their stateroom and
threw themselves down to rest. Both fell asleep instantly, and it seemed
to Andy that he had not slept more than five minutes when Chet shook
him.
"On deck!" cried the former. "The whistle is blowing!"
They had been asleep five hours, and the rest had refreshed them
greatly. They hurried again to the deck, and as they did so they felt
the _Ice King_ tremble from stem to stern.
"I'd rather be outside than in--if she is going to be crushed," said
Andy, in a voice he tried in vain to steady. He well knew what it would
mean to be cast away in the Arctic regions without a ship.
Again everybody was set to work to cut away the ice at the side and the
bow of the _Ice King_. Small holes were drilled, and cartridges exploded
in them to help the work along. In the meantime the crashing of the ice
pack continued, as the wind, having changed to its former course, drove
the great white mass tighter and tighter against the vessel.
"I am afraid the ship is doomed!" cried Professor Jeffer. He was
laboring as well as his years permitted.
"A little deeper!" cried Captain Williamson. "And throw all the coal on
deck overboard!"
The coal added considerable to the weight of the ship, and when this was
deposited on the ice, the vessel's draught was lessened by several
inches. With a straining and cracking she came up, and then the work of
cutting the ice at her side continued.
By noon, the prospect of clearing the _Ice King_ was almost hopeless.
The interior timbers were cracking, and one had snapped in twain. To
prevent a conflagration, the fires were put out, and the lamps also
extinguished.
"Another hour will tell the tale," said Barwell Dawson, almost sadly. "A
little more pressure, and if she doesn't come up she will be smashed as
flat as a pancake!"
Captain Williamson was now trying to raise the vessel by means of steel
cables slipped under the bow and stern. The cable ends on the ice pack
side were fastened down by crowbars set in deep holes, and the other
ends were hauled as near taut as possible by means of temporary
windlasses.
"I believe we'll make it!" cried the captain, presently. "Now then, one
more turn on the cables!"
The windlasses groaned and twisted, and then, of a sudden, one broke
from its fastenings and hit the side of the ship, letting the steel
cable slip down into the water. This allowed the bow to rise and the
stern to go down.
"The ice pack is moving!" yelled one man. "It's coming in for all it is
worth! The _Ice King_ is doomed!"