Although Sammy Block and his companions were not only far up among the
mysteries of the region of everlasting ice, and were sunk out of sight,
so that their vessel had become one of these mysteries, it was still
perfectly possible for them to communicate, by means of the telegraphic
wire which was continually unrolling astern, with people all over the
world. But this communication was a matter which required great judgment
and caution, and it had been a subject of very careful consideration by
Roland Clewe.
When he had returned to Cape Tariff, after parting with the Dipsey, he
had received several messages from Sammy, which assured him that the
submarine voyage was proceeding satisfactorily. But when he went on
board the Go Lightly and started homeward, he would be able to hear
nothing more from the submarine voyagers until he reached St. John's,
Newfoundland--the first place at which his vessel would touch. Of
course constant communication with Sardis would be kept up, but this
communication might be the source of great danger to the plans of Roland
Clewe. Whatever messages of importance came from the depths of the
arctic regions he wished to come only to him or to Mrs. Raleigh. He had
contrived a telegraphic cipher, known only to Mrs. Raleigh, Sammy,
and two officers of the Dipsey, and, to insure secrecy, Sammy had been
strictly enjoined to send no information in any other way than in this
cipher.
For years there had been men, both in America and in Europe, who had
been watching with jealous scrutiny the inventions and researches of
Roland Clewe, and he well understood that if they should discover his
processes and plans before they were brought to successful completion he
must expect to be robbed of many of the results of his labors. The first
news that came to him on his recent return to America had been the tale
told by Sammy Block, of the man in the air who had been endeavoring to
peer down into his lens-house, and he had heard of other attempts of
this kind. Therefore it was that the telegraphic instrument on the
Dipsey had been given into the sole charge of Samuel Block, who had
become a very capable operator, and who could be relied upon to send
no news over his wire which could give serviceable information to the
operators along the line from Cape Tariff to Sardis, New Jersey.
But Clewe did not in the least desire that Margaret Raleigh should be
kept waiting until he came back from the arctic regions for news from
the expedition, which she as well as himself had sent out into the
unknown North. Consequently Samuel Block had been told that he might
communicate with Mrs. Raleigh as soon and as often as he pleased,
remembering always to be careful never to send any word which might
reveal anything to the detriment of his employers. When a message should
be received on board the Dipsey that Mr. Clewe was ready to communicate
with her, frequent reports were expected from the Master Electrician,
but it would be Sammy who would unlock the cover which had been placed
over the instrument.
Before he retired to his bunk on the first night on board the Dipsey,
Sammy thought it proper to send a message to Mrs. Raleigh. He had not
telegraphed before because he knew that Mr. Clewe would communicate
fully before he left Cape Tariff.
Margaret Raleigh had gone to bed late, and had been lying for an hour
or two unable to sleep, so busy was her mind with the wonderful things
which were happening in the far-away polar regions--strange and awful
things--in which she had such a direct and lively interest. She had
heard, from Roland Clewe, of the successful beginning of the Dipsey's
voyage, and before she had gone to her chamber she had received a last
message from him on leaving Cape Tariff; and now, as she lay there in
her bed, her whole soul was occupied with thoughts of that little party
of people--some of them so well known to her--all of them sent out upon
this perilous and frightful expedition by her consent and assistance,
and now left alone to work their way through the dread and silent waters
that underlie the awful ice regions of the pole. She felt that so long
as she had a mind she could not help thinking of them, and so long as
she thought of them she could not sleep.
Suddenly there was a ring at the door, which made her start and spring
from her bed, and shortly a telegraphic message was brought to her by a
maid. It was from the depths of the Arctic Ocean, and read as follows:
“Getting on very well. No motion. Not cold. Slight rheumatism in Sarah's
shoulder. Wants to know which side of plasters you gave her goes next
skin,
“SAMUEL BLOCK.”
An hour afterwards there flashed farther northward than ever current
from a battery had gone before an earnest, cordial, almost affectionate
message from Margaret Raleigh to Sarah Block, and it concluded with the
information that it was the rough side of the plasters which should go
next to the skin. After that Mrs. Raleigh went to bed with a peaceful
mind and slept soundly.
Frequent communications, always of a friendly or domestic nature, passed
between the polar sea and Sardis during the next few days. Mrs. Raleigh
would have telegraphed a good deal more than she did had it not been for
the great expense from Sardis to Cape Tariff, and Sarah Block was held
in restraint, not by pecuniary considerations, but by Sammy's sense of
the fitness of things. He nearly always edited her messages, even when
he consented to send them. One communication he positively refused to
transmit. She came to him in a great flurry.
“Sammy,” said she, “I have just found out something, and I can't rest
until I have told Mrs. Raleigh. I won't mention it here, because it
might frighten some people into fits and spasms. Sammy, do you know
there are thirteen people on board this boat?”
“Sarah Block!” ejaculated her husband, “what in the name of common-sense
are you talkin' about? What earthly difference can it make whether there
are thirteen people on this vessel or twelve? And if it did make any
difference, what are you goin' to do about it? Do you expect anybody to
get out?”
“Of course I don't,” replied Sarah; “although there are some of them
that would not have come in if I had had my say about it; but as Mrs.
Raleigh is one of the owners, and such a good friend to you and me,
Sammy, it is our duty to let her know what dreadful bad luck we are
carryin' with us.”
“Don't you suppose she knows how many people are aboard?” said Sammy.
“Of course she knows; but she don't consider what it means, or we
wouldn't all have been here. It is her right to know, Sammy. Perhaps she
might order us to go back to Cape Tariff and put somebody ashore.”
In his heart Samuel Block believed that if this course were adopted
he was pretty sure who would be put on shore, if a vote were taken by
officers and crew; but he was too wise to say anything upon this point,
and contented himself with positively refusing to send southward any
news of the evil omen.
The next day Mrs. Block felt that she must speak upon the subject or
perish, and she asked Mr. Gibbs what he thought of there being thirteen
people on board.
“Madam,” said he, “these signs lose all their powers above the
seventieth parallel of latitude. In fact, none of them have ever been
known to come true above sixty-eight degrees and forty minutes, and we
are a good deal higher than that, you know.”
Sarah made no answer, but she told her husband afterwards that she
thought that Mr. Gibbs had his mind so full of electricity that it had
no room for old-fashioned common-sense. It did not do to sneer at signs
and portents. Among the earliest things she remembered was a story which
had been told her of her grandmother's brother, who was the thirteenth
passenger in an omnibus when he was a young man, and who died that very
night, having slipped off the back step, where he was obliged to stand,
and fractured his skull.
At last there came a day when a message in cipher from Roland Clewe
delivered itself on board the Dipsey, and from that moment a hitherto
unknown sense of security seemed to pervade the minds of officers and
crew. To be sure, there was no good reason for this, for if disaster
should overtake them, or even threaten them, there was no submarine boat
ready to send to their rescue; and if there had been, it would be long,
long before such aid could reach them; but still, they were comforted,
encouraged, and cheered. Now, if anything happened, they could send
news of it to the man in whom they all trusted, and through him to their
homes, and whatever their far-away friends had to say to them could be
said without reserve.
There was nothing yet of definite scientific importance to report,
but the messages of the Master Electrician were frequent and long,
regardless of expense, and, so far as her husband would permit her,
Sarah Block informed Mrs. Raleigh of the discouragements and dangers
which awaited this expedition. It must be said, however, that Mrs. Block
never proposed to send back one word which should indicate that she was
in favor of the abandonment of the expedition, or of her retirement from
it should opportunity allow. She had set out for the north pole because
Sammy was going there, and the longer she went “polin'” with him, the
stronger became her curiosity to see the pole and to know what it looked
like.
The Dipsey was not expected to be, under any circumstances, a swift
vessel, and now, retarded by her outside attachments, she moved but
slowly under the waters. The telegraphic wire which she laid as
she proceeded was the thinnest and lightest submarine cable ever
manufactured, but the mass of it was of great weight, and as it found
its way to the bottom it much retarded the progress of the vessel, which
moved more slowly than was absolutely necessary, for fear of breaking
this connection with the living world.
Onward, but a few knots an hour, the Dipsey moved like a fish in the
midst of the sea. The projectors of the enterprise had a firm belief
that there was a channel from Baffin's Bay into an open polar sea, which
would be navigable if its entrance were not blocked up by ice, and on
this belief were based all their hopes of success. So the explorers
pressed steadily onward, always with an anxious lookout above them for
fear of striking the overhanging ice, always with an anxious lookout
below for fear of dangers which might loom up from the bottom, always
with an anxious lookout starboard for fear of running against the
foundations of Greenland, always with an anxious lookout to port for
fear of striking the groundwork of the unknown land to the west, and
always keeping a lookout in every direction for whatever revelation
these unknown waters might choose to make to them.
Captain Jim Hubbell had no sympathy with the methods of navigation
practised on board the Dipsey. So long as he could not go out on deck
and take his noon observations, he did not believe it would be possible
for him to know exactly where his vessel was; but he accepted the
situation, and objected to none of the methods of the scientific
navigators.
“It's a mighty simple way of sailin',” he said to Sammy. “As long
as there's water to sail in, you have just got to git on a line of
longitude--it doesn't matter what line, so long as there's water ahead
of you--and keep there; and so long as you steer due north, always
takin' care not to switch off to the magnetic pole, of course you will
keep there; and as all lines of longitude come to the same point at
last, and as that's the point you are sailin' for, of course, if you can
keep on that line of longitude as long as it lasts, it follows that
you are bound to git there. If you come to any place on this line of
longitude where there's not enough water to sail her, you have got to
stop her; and then, if you can't see any way of goin' ahead on another
line of longitude, you can put her about and go out of this on the same
line of longitude that you came up into it on, and so you may expect
to find a way clear. It's mighty simple sailin'--regular spellin' book
navigation--but it isn't the right thing.”
“It seems that way, Cap'n Jim,” said Sammy, “and I expect there's a long
stretch of underwater business ahead of us yet, but still we can't tell.
How do we know that we will not get up some mornin' soon and look out of
the upper skylight and see nothin' but water over us and daylight beyond
that?”
“When we do that, Sammy,” said Captain Jim, “then I'll truly believe I'm
on a v'yage!”