The skin of the bear was considered to be of too much value to be left
to rot, so that next morning a fresh start was made as before, and in
due time the place was reached where the roughly-built fireplace stood
up blackened against the grey stones. But the bear lay out of sight
beyond a mass of rock.
As they came to where the animal should have been, it did not seem to be
there; but directly after Steve pointed, nearly speechless with wonder.
"Look!" he cried. "Come to life again."
Johannes laughed.
"Hardly," he said; "don't you see that it is the bear's mate."
So it proved; and upon the party approaching the dead animal, their
coming was savagely resented, and the second bear came on at once to the
attack so fiercely that the battle began at once, with the result that
the Norsemen, who had all accompanied this expedition, had two bears to
skin, and the sledge was heavily laden with the valuable portion of
their game.
Certain threatening signs were pointed out by Johannes soon after, and
they started back, but did not reach the boat till the ground was
covered with snow and a peculiar chill was in the air. This snow in
summer was unseasonable, but it made the sleigh run easily, and the boat
was reached in less time than had been anticipated; but the mountain
slopes on either side of the fiord were completely transformed by the
snow, an early taste of the winter they might expect to set in before
long if they stayed.
As the summer glided on the great rampart of ice was patiently watched
for tokens of melting, but these signs were few; and as the sun rose
less high day by day, and there were once more hours of darkness, the
prospect of their having to bear the winter where they were began to be
discussed.
But meanwhile there was a long expedition as often as the men had
cleared away the quantities of seal and walrus blubber that were brought
in and rendered down. These expeditions were made to embrace business
and investigation; and their knowledge of the lay of the land
increasing, they persevered in their search wherever it was possible to
penetrate the valleys, while the coast to north and south was explored
as far as the boats could go.
But there was no sign of the lost crew, and as the time wore on it
became evident that they were not in the region occupied by their
friends.
"Let us hope that they may have reached home by now," said the doctor
one evening. "I think we have done everything we can to find them."
"Everything," said the captain gravely; "but we cannot fight against
fate."
There began to be certain signs now of the short summer nearing its
termination, beside the setting of the sun in the far north-west. The
birds were not so plentiful, and whenever a flock approached as many
ducks and geese as possible were shot, and placed in ice for use in the
winter, when no doubt they would all have gone south.
Thanks to the Norwegians, too, who proved to be very ingenious in
watching the seals so as to find suitable places, plenty of fish were
caught, making a most agreeable addition to their diet.
At last the captain announced to the men that there was no necessity for
more walrus or seal hunts to be carried out, for the cargo was
sufficient, and that now they were to occupy their time more with
hunting and exploring, so as to make their stores of venison and dried
and salted fish so ample that they could set the winter at defiance.
"Then you really think that we shall have to stay here all the winter,
sir?" cried Steve.
"I have not a doubt about it now, my boy," replied the captain. "We
came to help at first; now we are badly in want of help ourselves."
"It doesn't much matter, does it?" said Steve. "We are all very happy
and strong; and if we stop through the winter, we shall be here ready
for the breaking up of the ice."
"Yes, Steve, quite ready," said the captain, rather sadly; "but I did
not mean to be caught like this."
"We've got months yet, haven't we, before the real winter comes?"
"Not up in this latitude," said the captain, smiling. "According to my
calculations, we are as far north as any expedition has been. Did you
notice anything this morning when you first got up?"
"No, only that it was rather cold for August."
"Yes, my lad, more than rather, for there was a thin film of ice on the
fiord till the sun touched it. Only a very thin film, but a suggestion
of how soon winter sets in up here."
But the next day proved to be so glorious, bright, and sunny that Steve
could not realise the fact that the winter would be upon them soon.
There were tiny flowers in sunny corners, the sea and sky were of a
brilliant blue, and the birds that were sailing round and round, and,
chasing each other, made the rocks echo with their joyous cries.
"This place is so sheltered that we ought not to feel the winter so very
much," he said to himself; and he walked up to where the Norsemen were
seated rebinding the lashing about their lance heads, examining the
grommetting round the harpoons, and planing up a fresh shaft for a lance
whose handle had been cracked in an encounter with a huge walrus, which
gave one vigorous flap and broke away, the lance handle snapping as if
it had been a match, at the same time preparing one for Johannes' weapon
broken by the bear.
"Morning," he said; and the fair, big, grave-looking fellows returned
his salute with a smile.
"Going to be fine weather?" he asked.
"Yes, sir, fine and clear for some days yet. I don't think we shall
have any snow."
"I should hope not," said Steve, smiling. "I say, Johannes, didn't we
have a bit of a frost this morning?"
"Yes, sir, a slight one."
"You don't think that's a sign of the winter coming, do you?"
"Yes, sir; and very soon."
"What nonsense!" cried Steve. "Why, we often have sharp frosts at home
in April and May, and they don't mean that winter is coming. Why do you
think it is coming so soon?"
The big Norseman smiled.
"Because, sir, it is not coming; it has already come."
"Come?"
"Yes," said Johannes, raising his hand, and pointing to the dazzling
peaks of ice and the glistening snow coming quite low down on the
slopes, leading gradually to the lake-like shores of the fiord; "there
it is, sir."
"Oh, but ice and snow have been there all the summer."
"What we call the summer, sir; but it seems to me that the winter is
always here. It rises a little when the sun comes back and a part of
the snow melts; but if we climb up into the mountains a little way, it
freezes every night, and the winter is always there. And now the sun
rises a little less high every day, and there is real night which grows
longer as the days grow shorter."
"Yes, I noticed that the days grew shorter," said Steve, as he looked up
at the realm of eternal winter with aching eyes.
"Much, sir; and if we measured we should soon see that the snow up
yonder was creeping down toward us week by week."
Steve was silent for a few minutes, as he tried to familiarise himself
with these wonderful facts about nature in the arctic circle.
"I say, Johannes," he said at last, "what about the ice down at the
opening of the fiord--will it give way this year?"
"No, sir," said the man quietly.
"Then for certain we shall not be able to get out?"
"For certain you will not be able to get out, sir."
"Then there is no doubt about it whatever; we shall have to spend the
winter here, frozen up?"
"Yes, sir. I have had no doubt about it for weeks; neither has the
captain, as you have seen by the great store of food he has buried in
the ice."
"Well, it will be a change," said Steve after a pause. "I suppose it
will not be so very cold?"
The Norseman laughed.
"Colder than you think for, sir; but not too cold to bear if you take
care. You must not go away into the mountains by yourself."
"Couldn't help it if a bear were after me," said Steve, laughing. "But
I shall take care. I say, though, tell me about the darkness: does the
sun go right out of sight?"
"Yes, sir, for weeks."
"And it is quite dark--black darkness?"
"It is about the same as it is in England, sir. There are light nights
when the sky is clear, and you can see the moon and stars, and there are
dark nights when it is cloudy or a mist hangs low."
"Seems queer," said Steve thoughtfully.
"But you had the constant day, sir, when the sun never set."
"Well, I daresay I shall get used to it," said Steve; and he went to get
his gun and ammunition ready, so as to be prepared for a little
exploring expedition which the captain was going to lead along the
shore.
And now for the rest of the open time trips were made north and south
along the coast, efforts being directed to going farther in each
direction before the frost made progress in the boats impossible. Of
these trips many were made, each being pushed farther north or south;
for the ice had opened more and more away from the shore, increasing the
length and width of the channel in the incomprehensible, unexpected
manner in which such changes do take place amongst the ice.
But it was always the same: not a trace of human being having been there
before; no post or cairn erected; no sign of the rough hut that sailors
who had come so far north would build up as a protection while hunting
the walrus and the seal.
"It seems to me," the captain said, "that we are the first visitors
without doubt. Would that we were the second, and could find our
friends were the first!"
"If this is the first time the country has been reached," said Steve,
"oughtn't we to christen it by some name? How would Walrus Land do?"
"As well as any other name," said the captain; "but, whatever we call
it, there is no doubt but that it will be many more years before it is
reached again. It is hardly likely that another expedition will meet
with such an accident as that which brought us here. Walrus Land be it
then, for the huge, unwieldy creatures are plentiful enough. How soon
are you going to let your pet go? It grows very fast."
"Let it go!" cried Steve wonderingly. "Why, I meant to take it back to
England."
"For the Zoological Gardens? You can't keep it, like a dog, in the back
yard."
"No," said Steve thoughtfully; "it would want a kennel."
"Kennel? It would want an elephant house. No, my lad, it will not do;
you will have to set our friend at liberty, or let me tell Johannes to
turn it into oil."
That was one day at the end of August, when at midday the sun shone
quite hot, and they knew that harvest must be in full progress at home.
They had been so great a distance to the south that it was all the men
could do to pull back; and, as it was, they did not reach the mouth of
the narrow waterway until close upon ten o'clock, and the _Hvalross_
till they were so utterly tired out that, after snatching a hasty meal,
all were eager to throw themselves down to sleep.
Safely anchored as they were, shut in from storms, right out where no
bears, even if they swam out, could assail them, the keeping of a watch
seemed very unnecessary, and Steve never thought it more so than that
night, when he found that it was his turn to take the second watch in
company with Johannes; for he was regularly fagged. However, his was
only the watch to come, so that he was able to get a good sleep before
he was called, and then arose with his eyes half closed and a general
desire to quarrel with everything and everybody.
"It does seem so stupid!" he grumbled. "What's the good of it?"
"Being under a first-rate captain, sir, one who never lets discipline
grow slack."
"Oh, bother!" said Steve testily. "It seems such a nuisance when one is
so tired and sleepy. It does no good now."
"Yes, sir, a great deal," replied the Norseman. "Makes every one feel
confident that he is being watched over, and may sleep in peace."
"Wish I was being watched over and could sleep in peace," groaned out
Steve. "No, I don't," he hastened to add; "it would be so precious
selfish. But I'm not well, Johannes; I'm chilly. Got a bad cold, I
think."
"Then go and get your sheep-skin coat."
"Would you? Well, I think I will."
He went back to the cabin, and returned, putting on the thick coat, with
its closely-cut pile of wool, shorn so regularly that it looked like
velvet in the light of the glistening stars.
"I don't like this watching in the dark," said Steve. "And how strange
it is! Only the other day it was quite light at this time. Ugh! how
cold I feel!"
"You'll be better soon," said Johannes. "You have not had time yet to
feel the good of your coat."
"What good can that do me when I'm not well?" grumbled Steve. "Hullo!
you've got on yours."
"Yes, sir; and it's very welcome. The air is very cold to-night."
"Freezing?"
"Yes, sir, hard. I daresay we shall find the fiord covered with ice in
the morning. Winter is coming, sir, you see."
"Oh, but this is only a night frost that will go away in the sun quite
early."
"Perhaps so, sir; but you can never be sure about the weather at this
time of year. It will make some of the walrus boats turn their heads
south, many of them perhaps empty, while here they swarm more than
ever."
"Then they should come up here and catch them."
"How?" said Johannes.
"Sail and steam, as we did."
"Yes, sir, that sounds easy; but suppose they cannot? Suppose you made
up your mind to sail south to-morrow?"
"Well, we couldn't go for the ice."
"Exactly, sir; and the walrus boats couldn't sail up here for the ice."
"Ugh! it is cold," said Steve with a shiver. "I wonder what the glass
says. Wish I'd looked."
"It would not have been a fair test, sir; it is warmer down in the
cabin. You are not unwell, only you feel the chill just waking up from
sleep."
"Yes, I feel better now. How the stars shine!"
"You'll see them brighter by-and-by, sir," said Johannes. "Have you got
anything hard in your pocket?"
"Only my knife. What do you want?"
"Something for you," replied the Norseman. "Wait a minute, sir."
He turned and stepped down into the furnace-room, to return directly.
"Take that, sir."
"What is it? Lump of coal? What for?"
"Throw it right out on the ice, sir. I want you to try it. Quick!
there's something for you to look at now."
"But surely there's no ice for it to fall on," said Steve. "It's
impossible."
All the same, he took the lump of coal, and, drawing back, threw it as
far as he could out over the fiord; and, to his utter astonishment, when
it fell he heard it rebound with the regular musical ring of a hard
substance upon ice, and strike again and again before it became
motionless.
"Why, the ice must be quite half an inch thick!" cried Steve. "No
wonder I felt cold."
"Yes, sir, it's freezing hard; the winter has begun, though of course it
will be warm in the fine days. But look; there's a sure sign of the
cold weather coming."
He pointed to the northward, where the Great Bear shone with a
brightness foreign to that which he would have seen at home.
"What am I to look at?" said Steve; "that soft light? It's the Milky
Way."
"No, sir, the aurora. There it goes; it is spreading right along."
"Then it's the sun going to rise!" cried Steve.
"In the north-west, sir? No, it's the aurora; you will see it stream up
in rays right away to the Pole Star soon. Yes, I thought so;" for, even
as he was speaking, sheaves of thin pencils of soft lambent light
streamed right away up toward the zenith, then sank, wavered about, and
then streamed up once again.
"Finer than I should have expected, sir," said Johannes, as the glow
near the horizon increased till it was now pale white, now of a delicate
blush, while the pencils of light flickered up and streamed and waved,
and looked in their delicate, dawn-like colouring like the spirits of
fire or light flying upward from earth to heaven.
"What is it?" said Steve at last, after gazing at the wondrous
phenomenon for a long time.
"Ah, sir, you must ask some one wiser than I am to answer that question.
All I can tell you is that cold weather generally comes after the sky
has been lit up as if it was the inside of some great shell, and with as
many colours, only more light and faint."
The aurora flashed up brighter and then sank, flickered as if dying out,
and then blazed up again, if the term can be applied to the exquisitely
soft, lambent glow playing in the north; but its movements were those of
leaping flame flashing up from a huge fire, growing exhausted, and then
dying down till almost invisible, but only to light up the northern
heavens again, from horizon almost to zenith, with its dawn-like beauty,
till it grew hard to imagine that there was not something more to
follow.
"One would think that some kind of pale, cold sun was about to rise over
there," said Steve at last. "Are you sure that nothing will rise?"
"Nothing but more rays, sir."
"Cold rays," muttered Steve, drawing his fingers in under the sleeves of
his sheep-skin coat. "I say, Johannes, are you warm?"
"Yes, sir."
"My fingers are numbed, and it's getting hold of my toes. I'll go down
and have five minutes' warm by the cabin fire."
"No, sir, don't. Take my advice. Let's have a trot up and down the
deck till your blood circulates. Exercise is the thing out here. Blood
always running about through your veins, that's the thing to keep you
warm."
"But one is so much better after a good warm!"
"For a few minutes, sir; but get yourself warm by a good run, and it
will last for hours. Take my word; I know."
"But you've never been frozen up here?"
"Oh yes, sir, twice. Not for long, but quite long enough to know how to
act most sensibly as to eating and drinking."
"Does that make much difference?" said Steve, as they walked sharply
along the deck, and then broke into the double, step for step.
"All the difference, sir. Eat and drink well up here in these cold
places, and you are able to stand the cold."
"What do you eat, then?"
"Meat with plenty of fat, sir, and warmth-producing stuff like sugar.
The Eskimo people almost live upon fat--blubber and oil."
"Ugh!" ejaculated Steve; "how horrible! But look here, Johannes, what
do you people drink up here to help--plenty of grog?"
"No, sir, not a drop," said the Norseman sharply. "That does more harm
than good. Makes a man feverishly hot for a few minutes, then leaves
him colder than he was before."
"What do you drink, then?" said Steve, staring at the man's earnestness.
"Tea, sir; plenty of good, hot tea. It rests and refreshes a man
directly, and he can do more work on hot tea than upon anything else
that has been tried."
"Well, I don't mind tea," said Steve rather jerkily; for it was
beginning to be hard work to keep on talking while trotting round and
round the deck. But Johannes, though measuring his big strides to make
them fit with the boy's, kept up the trot till Steve was so thoroughly
out of breath that at the end of a quarter of an hour he stopped short
and then dropped upon a coil of rope.
"Don't sit down, sir!" cried Johannes. "It's too cold for that. Out of
breath?"
"Yes--quite!" panted Steve. "My word! what a run!"
"Feel cold, sir?"
"Who's to feel cold," puffed Steve, "after running miles like that? I'm
getting hot."
"Then now let's walk, so that you don't cool down too fast."
"Why, here's old Skeny!" cried Steve, patting the dog's rough head. "I
didn't see him."
"He has been trotting round just behind us all the time, sir," said
Johannes, bending down in turn to pat the dog, who ruffled up his great
thick frill and uttered a low growl.
"Ah!" cried Steve. "Quiet! Don't you know your friends yet, sir?"
The dog growled again; and this time apparently at his master.
"Ah! would you?" cried Steve; and the dog wagged his tail, making it
flap up against the Norseman's leg; but he growled again.
"It isn't at us, sir," said Johannes. "He hears something ashore. What
is it, then, old fellow?"
The dog uttered a sharp bark, and ran to the bulwarks, reared up, and
tried to look over.
"There's something coming over the ice. Hark!"
They listened breathlessly, while the dog uttered a low whine.
"Yes, I can hear it now, sir," whispered Johannes. "Listen!"
Steve was already listening to a strange whistling noise which sounded
as if hundreds of boys were a long way off, making the lashes of as many
whips whish through the air together; and this sound came nearer and
nearer, till it grew close to them--over, beneath, around--and so
strange in the darkness, lit up only by the stars which were gleaming on
the ice as well as above, and the lambent rays of the aurora, that Steve
felt a curious sensation of dread stealing over him, and he
involuntarily crept closer to the Norseman, and whispered:
"It is--something coming from up by the glacier over the ice;" while the
sound increased, and sounded so awe-inspiring that the lad could not
help a shiver.
Johannes was silent and did not stir.
"Don't you hear it?" said Steve again. "Shall I get a gun?"
"No; and it is a pity to disturb the captain and doctor. It is not on
the ice, sir," replied Johannes.
"But it is, I tell you."
"No, sir; I've heard it before. It is only echoed from the hard, flat
surface. Hah! what a number we might shoot if we wanted them!"
"What do you mean?"
"Wild fowl, sir. They're not geese, or they would make a clanging
noise. They must be ducks."
"Ducks?" cried Steve, staring upwards and seeing nothing.
"Yes, sir. Another sign of the cold weather. They're all banded
together in one great flight, and are going south to the marshes of
North Russia, where they'll stay till it begins to freeze there, and
then go farther south."
"But are you sure? Oh, they wouldn't take flight in the dark!"
"Sure, sir? Listen to the whistling of their wings, hundreds and
thousands of them flying over as fast as they can go. Yes, they always
fly in the night when they're going from here south, and I believe birds
come north in the same way, following after the frost as it is driven
north. I've noticed it at home near Nordoe. To-day there would be no
birds at all in the spring; next day there would be hundreds of them
flying about. They must have come in the night."
Steve had not a word to say, but stood there silent, listening to the
whirring of the thousands of wings which echoed from the ice and the
sides of the fiord, sounding so close that he felt disposed to stretch
out his hand and try to touch that which seemed to be within reach.
Then he began to wonder how many thousands there would be, and where
they had come from; and then how it was that this plain, homely
Norwegian should know so much better than he, and show that he had
passed his life picking up knowledge peculiar to his surroundings, so
that he was able to teach those around him again and again.
"Isn't there going to be any end of them?" said the boy at last; for the
peculiar whirring had been going on for quite half an hour.
"Oh yes, sir; they'll all be by soon," replied Johannes; and almost as
he spoke the whirring sound grew fainter, fainter, and then died away.
"Hah!" ejaculated Steve, drawing a long breath. "How strange it
sounded!"
He was about to say, "I am glad you were here, for it quite startled
me," when the Norseman spoke:
"I remember hearing one of these night flights, sir when I was quite a
lad somewhere about your age. I was out quite alone, and it frightened
me so that I ran away. It was one night, and I was going straight home
over the mountain when it began. First thing I did was to throw myself
flat on my face; but the noise seemed to come close down to me, and I
was so scared that I jumped up and began to run. But that did no good,
for I started running in the same direction as the wild fowl were
flying, and consequently the noise sounded as if following me, and kept
on louder and louder till I reached home, dashed myself, out of breath,
against the door, and rushed in to where my father and mother were
sitting with the window open listening, as I thought, for me. In a
moment I'd banged to and barred the door, and then I turned to my
father.
"`Shut the window,' I said. `Quick! they're coming in.'
"`What are?' said my father.
"`I don't know. I think it's a pack of wolves,' I panted as I sank in a
chair. `Get the gun.'
"`Oh yes,' said my father. `Perhaps it is flying wolves with feathers
instead of fur coats, and they were after you to eat you.'
"`Yes, father,' I said, `I thought so.'
"`Then don't be such a bull goose again,' said my father. `Here,
mother, try and teach this boy to think better, and not go and believe
that every sound he hears is all troll and hobgoblin. Feathered wolves
that fly, eh, Johannes? That kind of fowl has not been hatched yet, my
boy. Now, the next time you hear a flight of fowl going south in the
night, you'll know better, won't you?'
"I said, `Yes, father,' very sharply, for I was horribly ashamed of
having been frightened at the flight of wild fowl; but I didn't know any
better, and it was very dark, like to-night; and it is startling to hear
such sounds when you don't know what they are."
"Yes, very," said Steve consciously.
"Why, if the lad Watty had been on deck, I don't know what kind of
creature he would have thought it was. Hark!" he whispered, for Skene
uttered another low whine. "Here they are again, sir. This frost has
started them in a hurry. Yes; geese this time."
For from out of the black darkness ahead came a long-drawn, weird,
clanging noise, growing louder and louder till it swept over their heads
and into the distance, hushed, as it were, by the whir and whistle of
the heavy pinions beating the air.
"The captain was right," said Johannes after they had listened for a
time. "There is nothing like laying in a store when you have the
chance. We shall have to go far enough now to pick up a few birds for
some months to come."
The wild-geese flight passed over, and the walk up and down the deck was
resumed; and now Steve noted that the aurora was growing paler, with the
effect of making the stars shine out more brightly. Then all at once
the strange glow sank down lower and lower, and then disappeared as the
glow cast upon a cloud of mist disappears when the electric light is
turned aside.
"Yes, it comes and goes like that," said Johannes; "and I have never
known yet, sir, any one who could explain it to make it seem clear and
reasonable to me. But it is very good."
"Good! What does it do?"
"Gives us light through the long, black winter, sir, when we're glad of
anything that brightens the sky where there is no sun. Hark! That's
not birds."
Skene had heard it, and he emitted a deep growl now at the long, low
noise faintly heard, apparently from the valley by the glacier.
"What is it?" whispered Steve. "There it is again. Why, it must be
wolves. There, that sounds like two or three!"
"And I should say it was the cry of wolves, sir, if there are any. But
we have not seen a sign."
"No, not even a fox."
"But there are deer," said Johannes; "and where there are deer you
generally find wolves to prey upon them. Yes, the cold weather is
bringing them now. It must be wolves."