MARK ON GUARD
After the hearty supper, and the excitement of the bear-killing, they
were all more or less ready for bed. The professor figured that the
sun would not appear again to the Crusoes on this island in the air
for quite fourteen hours. They all ought to get sufficient sleep before
that time. The havoc wrought by the rays of the torrid sun upon the
glacier had been apparent as they came over it to this fringe of trees
at the base of the cliff. It might be necessary for them to move quickly
from the ice to save their lives.
"We can afford to spend some hours in rest, and will start with bodies
refreshed, at least. Now we will divide the watches," suggested the
scientist.
But the others would not hear of the professor going on guard. Andy
declared for the first watch, for he had to 'tend his "jerked" bear
meat. And following him the die fell to Mark. The old hunter awoke the
youth some four hours after the camp had become quiet for the night.
The earth was then hanging low on their horizon, while the moon was
climbing up from the east, the reflected light of both orbs flooding
the surface of the ice-field.
Mark came out of his warm nest yawning like a good fellow, and the old
hunter said to him:
"Take that axe yonder and cut some wood for the fire. Keep up a good
blaze and that will keep us comfortable as well as keep you awake. I
don't want you to go to sleep, Mark."
"Who's going to sleep?" cried Mark, much abused.
But he had to confess to himself that he _was_ mighty drowsy when
he had finished cutting up the wood a little way from the camp. He
took a turn or two, replenished the fire, and then backed up against
a sheltering tree-bole and blinked at the dancing flames.
Sleep overtakes one suddenly and strangely at times. Without intending
to even close one eye, Mark was off into dreamland with a promptness
that was surprising. He settled back against the tree and slept standing
up. But his neglected duty troubled his subconscious mind. He was
uneasy. In his dreams he was troubled by nameless dread. He awoke at
last seemingly with a scream of human agony in his ears.
Had something happened to his comrades during his brief defection?
Mark sprang erect and looked over the sleeping camp. Every person was
in his place, but the fire was low. It had been, perhaps, an imagined
sound that aroused him so suddenly.
He threw more wood on the fire and stepped out upon the ice to get
more of the fuel he had previously cut into handy lengths. This
morainial deposit which offered rootage for the trees and bushes was
but a narrow streak--a sort of an island on the glacier. They had
carried the bear meat out to a small sink in the ice where there were
great slabs of the hard crystal which were easily packed over the meat.
As Mark started for the wood he heard a noise out on the ice in the
direction of their cache. He picked up his rifle again quickly and
started for the spot. Something was disturbing the meat, and Mark did
not lack courage. His rifle was loaded and, thanks to Andy, he was a
good shot. The old hunter took pride in training the boys to shoot
well.
The youth did not stop to ask what manner of enemy it was disturbing
their cache. And it never entered his head to disturb the camp. He ran
right out upon the glacier and had advanced to within a few yards of
the spot before he learned what he was up against, for a huge block
of ice hid the cache from his view.
Around this ice-block, from either side, as though they had been waiting
purposely to ambuscade him, shot several animals, who charged him
without as much as a whine.
"Dogs!" thought Mark, remembering the Alaskans that Phineas Roebach
had been forced to abandon. "They have gone mad."
But the next moment he saw his mistake. They were wolves--huge, gaunt,
shaggy fellows, with gaping jaws displaying rows of ferocious teeth.
They charged him in awful silence, their great claws scratching over
the ice.
There were eight or ten of them in sight and they were only a few yards
away from the youth when he first saw them. But instantly Mark dropped
to one knee to steady himself, put the rifle to his shoulder, and
opened fire.
Four shots he placed in quick succession. Two of the wolves rolled
over and over upon the ice, and a third limped off after the remainder,
who darted behind the ice-block again. Mark leaped up, uttering a shout
of triumph, and followed them, believing that he had beaten the pack
thus easily.
But the moment he came around the obstruction he found himself in the
midst of the actual pack. He was not charged by a dozen of the fierce
creatures, but by more than half a hundred.
The wolves had raided the cache already, having torn away the blocks
of ice, and were feasting on the half-frozen bear meat. Mark did not
think at that moment of driving them away, however; he wanted to get
away himself.
His shots had aroused the camp, although he was some distance from it.
But when his friends ran out upon the ice they did not see him, and
nobody for the minute suspected what had happened or where the youth
had gone. The two bodies of the wolves were not at first sighted.
Mark did not have a chance to use his rifle again. The wolves seemed
to rush him from all sides, and a huge gray fellow leaped against him,
knocking the rifle from the lad's grasp and rolling him over and over,
half stunned, upon the ice.
By marvelous good fortune none of the savage beasts followed him for
the moment. The wounded wolf took up their attention. They pitched
upon him and before Mark could rise to his feet the savage brutes had
torn their wounded comrade limb from limb.
The ice was stained crimson and their slobbering jaws ran blood. A
more terrifying sight the youth had seldom seen. He could not reach
his rifle, and the bulk of the pack was between him and the way he had
come. He therefore leaped away in the other direction, running from
instead of toward his friends.
He passed through the thinning pack without being touched, although
several of the beasts snapped at him and the clashing of their fangs
sent cold chills up and down his spine. Then he leaped away at top
speed across the ice.
It was a natural move, but a very unwise one. The wolves tore their
comrade to pieces and bolted the pieces in about sixty seconds. Then
they wheeled en masse and shot off across the glacier after the boy.
Mark ran about as fast as he had ever run before. Fortunately he had
spurs in his boot-soles and therefore he did not slip on the ice. But
suddenly he found that he was crossing a smooth sheet of new ice--the
surface of a lake in the glacier. This lake had frozen after the sun
went down and Mark felt the new ice bend under him as he ran.
The moonlight revealed his path before him plainly; but the now yapping
pack behind took up so much of his attention that Mark did not take
a careful view of the surface of the thinly frozen lake.
The leaders were all but upon him in a very few moments. As the first
wolf leaped, Mark threw himself sideways and ran off at a tangent,
holding his feet much better than did the brutes. They went scratching
along the smooth ice for some yards before they could change their
course.
The turn, however, put Mark in a serious position. He found the thin
ice cracking loudly under his feet. He glanced ahead. There was a
streak of open water.
He tried to turn again, but this time his spurs slipped. He went down
on the ice. The first two wolves were a-top of him and one seized his
arm. But luckily it was protected by his thick coat sleeve.
Then the wolves darted back from the prone, sliding body of the boy.
They saw their peril; Mark could not help himself.
With a shriek and splash he was struggling in the deadly cold water
of the lake. He plunged beneath the black surface while the yapping
pack halted upon the very verge of the broken ice.