WINTER PLEASURES
It is a dreary affair to live at the Pole, for there is no going out
for many long months, and nothing to break the weary monotony.
The day after the hunting excursion was dark and snowy, and
Clawbonny could find no occupation except polishing up the ice walls
of the hut as they became damp with the heat inside, and emptying
out the snow which drifted into the long passage leading to the
inner door. The "Snow-House" stood out well, defying storm and
tempest, and the snow only seemed to increase the thickness of the
walls.
The storehouses, too, did not give way the least; but though they
were only a few yards off, it was found necessary to lay in enough
provisions for the day, as very often the weather made it almost
impossible to venture that short distance.
The unloading of the Porpoise turned out to have been a wise
precaution, for she was slowly but surely being crashed to pieces by
the silent, irresistible pressure around her. Still the Doctor was
always hoping enough planks might be sufficiently sound to construct
a small vessel to convey them back to England, but the right time to
build had not come.
[Illustration]
[Illustration]
The five men were consequently compelled to spend the greater part
of the day in complete idleness. Hatteras lolled on his bed absorbed
in thought. Altamont smoked or dozed, and the Doctor took care not
to disturb either of them, for he was in perpetual fear of a quarrel
between them.
At meal times he always led the conversation away from irritating
topics and sought, as far as possible, to instruct and interest all
parties. Whenever he was not engaged with the preparation of his
notes, he gave them dissertations on history, geography, or
meteorology, handling his subject in an easy, though philosophical
manner, drawing lessons from the most trivial incidents. His
inexhaustible memory was never at a loss for fact or illustration
when his good humour and geniality made him the life and soul of the
little company. He was implicitly trusted by all, even by Hatteras,
who cherished a deep affection for him.
Yet no man felt the compulsory confinement more painfully than
Clawbonny. He longed ardently for the breaking up of the frost to
resume his excursions though he dreaded the rivalry that might ensue
between the two captains.
Yet things must come to a crisis soon or late, and meantime he
resolved to use his best endeavors to bring both parties to a better
mind, but to reconcile an American and an Englishman was no easy
task. He and Johnson had many a talk on the subject, for the old
sailor's views quite coincided with his own as to the difficult
complications which awaited them in the future.
However, the bad weather continued, and leaving Fort Providence,
even for an hour, was out of the question. Day and night they were
pent up in these glittering ice-walls, and time hung heavily on
their hands, at least on all but the Doctor's, and he always
managed to find some occupation for himself.
[Illustration]
"I declare," said Altamont, one evening; "life like this is
not worth having. We might as well be some of those reptiles that
sleep all the winter. But I suppose there is no help for it."
"I am afraid not," said the Doctor; "unfortunately we are too
few in number to get up any amusement."
"Then you think if there were more of us, we should find more to
do?"
"Of course: when whole ships' crews have wintered here, they
have managed to while away the time famously."
"Well, I must say I should like to know how. It would need a vast
amount of ingenuity to extract anything amusing out of our
circumstances. I suppose they did not play at charades?"
"No, but they introduced the press and the theatre."
"What? They had a newspaper?" exclaimed the American.
"They acted a comedy?" said Bell.
"That they did," said the Doctor. "When Parry wintered at
Melville Island, he started both amusements among his men, and they
met with great success."
"Well, I must confess, I should like to have been there,"
returned Johnson; "for it must have been rather curious work."
"Curious and amusing too, my good Johnson. Lieutenant Beechey was
the theatre manager, and Captain Sabina chief editor of the
newspaper called 'The Winter Chronicle, or the Gazette of Northern
Georgia.'"
"Good titles," said Altamont.
"The newspaper appeared daily from the 1st of November, 1819, to
the 20th of March, 1820. It reported the different excursions, and
hunting parties, and accidents, and adventures, and published
amusing stories. No doubt the articles were not up to the
'Spectator' or the 'Daily Telegraph,' but the readers were
neither critical nor blasé, and found great pleasure in their
perusal."
[Illustration]
"My word!" said Altamont. "I should like to read some of the
articles."
"Would you? Well, you shall judge for yourself."
"What! can you repeat them from memory?"
"No; but you had Parry's Voyages on board the Porpoise, and I
can read you his own narrative if you like."
This proposition was so eagerly welcomed that the Doctor fetched the
book forthwith, and soon found the passage in question.
"Here is a letter," he said, "addressed to the editor."
"'Your proposition to establish a journal has been received by
us with the greatest satisfaction. I am convinced that, under your
direction, it will be a great source of amusement, and go a long way
to lighten our hundred days of darkness.
"'The interest I take in the matter myself has led me to study
the effect of your announcement on my comrades, and I can testify,
to use reporter's language, that the thing has produced an immense
sensation.
"'The day after your prospectus appeared, there was an unusual
and unprecedented demand for ink among us, and our green tablecloth
was deluged with snippings and parings of quill-pens, to the injury
of one of our servants, who got a piece driven right under his nail.
I know for a fact that Sergeant Martin had no less than nine
pen-knives to sharpen.
"'It was quite a novel sight to see all the writing-desks
brought out, which had not made their appearance for a couple of
months, and judging by the reams of paper visible, more than one
visit must have been made to the depths of the hold.
"'I must not forget to tell you, that I believe attempts will
be made to slip into your box sundry articles which are not
altogether original, as they have been published already. I can
declare that, no later than last night, I saw an author bending over
his desk, holding a volume of the "Spectator" open with one
hand, and thawing the frozen ink in his pen at the lamp with the
other. I need not warn you to be on your guard against such tricks,
for it would never do for us to have articles in our "Winter
Chronicle" which our great-grandfathers read over their
breakfast-tables a century ago.'"
"Well, well," said Altamont, "there is a good deal of clever
humour in that writer. He must have been a sharp fellow."
"You're right. Here is an amusing catalogue of Arctic
tribulations:—
"'To go out in the morning for a walk, and the moment you put
your foot outside the ship, find yourself immersed in the cook's
water-hole.
"'To go out hunting, and fall in with a splendid reindeer, take
aim, and find your gun has gone off with a flash in the pan, owing
to damp powder.
"'To set out on a march with a good supply of soft new bread in
your pocket, and discover, when you want to eat, that it has frozen
so hard that you would break your teeth if you attempted to bite it
through.
"'To rush from the table when it is reported that a wolf is in
sight, and on coming back to find the cat has eaten your dinner.
"'To be returning quietly home from a walk, absorbed in
profitable meditation, and suddenly find yourself in the embrace of
a bear.'
"We might supplement this list ourselves," said the Doctor,
"to almost any amount, for there is a sort of pleasure in
enumerating troubles when one has got the better of them."
"I declare," said Altamont, "this 'Winter Journal' is an
amusing affair. I wish we could subscribe to it."
"Suppose we start one," said Johnson.
"For us five!" exclaimed Clawbonny; "we might do for editors,
but there would not be readers enough."
"No, nor spectators enough, if we tried to get up a comedy,"
added Altamont.
"Tell us some more about Captain Parry's theatre," said
Johnson; "did they play new pieces?"
"Certainly. At first two volumes on board the 'Hecla' were
gone through, but as there was a performance once a fortnight, this
repertoire was soon exhausted. Then they had to improvise fresh
plays; Parry himself composed one which had immense success. It was
called 'The North-West Passage, or the End of the Voyage.'"
"A famous title," said Altamont; "but I must confess, if I had
chosen such a subject, I should have been at a loss for the
dénouement."
"You are right," said Bell; "who can say what the end will
be?"
"What does that matter?" replied Mr. Clawbonny. "Why should we
trouble about the last act, while the first ones are going on well.
Leave all that to Providence, friends; let us each play our own
rôle as perfectly as we can, and since the dénouement belongs to
the Great Author of all things, we will trust his skill. He will
manage our affairs for us, never fear."
"Well, we'd better go and dream about it," said Johnson,
"for it's getting late, and it is time we went to bed," said
Johnson.
"You're in a great hurry, old fellow," replied the Doctor.
"Why would you sit up, Mr. Clawbonny? I am so comfortable in my
bed, and then I always have such good dreams. I dream invariably of
hot countries, so that I might almost say, half my life is spent in
the tropics, and half at the North Pole."
"You're a happy man, Johnson," said Altamont, "to be blessed
with such a fortunate organization."
"Indeed I am," replied Johnson.
"Well, come, after that it would be positive cruelty to keep our
good friend pining here," said the Doctor, "his tropical sun
awaits him, so let's all go to bed."