_In Which a Stretch of Slush is to be Crossed and Billy Topsail
Takes the Law in His Own Hands_
It was falling dusk and blowing up when Doctor Luke and Billy Topsail,
gaffs in hand, left the heads of Candlestick Cove for the ice of Ships'
Run; and a spit of frosty snow--driving in straight lines--was in the
gale. Amen Island, lying nearly in the wind's eye, was hardly
distinguishable, through the misty interval, from the blue-black sky
beyond.
There was more wind in the northeast--more snow and a more penetrating
degree of frost. It was already blowing at the pitch of half a gale: it
would rise to a gale in the night, thick with snow, it might be, and
blowing bitter cold--the wind jumping over the point of Amen Island on a
diagonal and sweeping down the Run.
Somewhere to leeward of Candlestick Cove the jam had yielded to the
rising pressure of the wind. The floe was outward bound from the Run.
It was already moving in the channel, scraping the rocks of both
shores--moving faster as the pans below ran off to open water and
removed their restraint.
As yet the pans and hummocks were in reasonably sure contact all the way
from Candlestick Cove to Come-Along Point of Amen Island; but the ice
was thinning out with accelerating speed--black water disclosing itself
in widening gaps--as the compression was relieved. All the while, thus,
as Doctor Luke and Billy Topsail made across, the path was diminishing.
* * * * *
In the slant of the wind the ice in the channel of Ships' Run was blown
lightly against the Candlestick coast. About the urgent business of its
escape to the wide water of Great Yellow Bay the floe rubbed the
Candlestick rocks in passing and crushed around the corner of Dead Man's
Point.
Near Amen Island, where the wind fell with less force, there was a
perilous line of separation. In the lee of the Amen hills--close
inshore--the ice was not disturbed: it hugged the coast as before; but
outward of this--where the wind dropped down--a lane of water was
opening between the inert shore ice and the wind-blown main floe.
As yet the lane was narrow; and there were pans in it--adrift and
sluggishly moving away from the Amen shore. When Doctor Luke and Billy
Topsail came to this widening breach they were delayed--the course was
from pan to pan in a direction determined by the exigency of the moment;
and when they had drawn near the coast of Amen--having advanced in a
general direction as best they could--they were halted altogether.
And they were not then under Come-Along Point, but on a gathering of
heavy Arctic ice, to the north, at the limit of Ships' Run, under that
exposed head of Amen, called Deep Water Head, which thrusts itself into
the open sea.
"We're stopped, sir," Billy Topsail declared. "We'd best turn back, sir,
while there's time."
A way of return was still open. It would be laborious--nothing worse.
"One moment----"
"No chance, sir."
"I'm an agile man, Billy. One moment. I----"
Billy Topsail turned his back to a blast of the gale and patiently
awaited the issue of Doctor Luke's inspection of the path.
"A man can't cross that slush, sir," said he.
Past Deep Water Head the last of the floe was driving. There is a wide
little cove there--it is called Deep Water Cove; and there is deep
water--a drop of ten fathoms (they say)--under Deep Water Cliff. There
was open water in both directions beyond the points of the cove. A
detour was thus interrupted.
Doctor Luke and Billy Topsail confronted the only ice that was still in
contact with the shore. At no time had the floe extended far beyond Deep
Water Head. A high sea, rolling in from the northeast, had played under
the ice; and this had gone on for three days--the seas running in and
subsiding: all the while casting the ice ponderously against the rocks.
Heavy Arctic ice--fragments of many glacial bergs--had caught the
lesser, more brittle drift-pans of the floe against the broken base and
submerged face of Deep Water Cliff and ground them slowly to slush in
the swells. There were six feet of this slush, perhaps--a depth of six
feet and a width of thirty.
It was as coarse as cracked ice in a freezer. It was a quicksand.
Should a man's leg go deep enough he would not be able to withdraw it;
and once fairly caught--both feet gripped--he would inevitably drop
through. It would be a slow and horrible descent--like sinking in a
quicksand.
It was near dark. The snow--falling thicker--was fast narrowing the
circle of vision.
"I might get across," said Doctor Luke.
"You'll not try, sir," Billy Topsail declared, positively. "You'll start
back t' Candlestick Cove."
"I might----"
"You'll not!"
There was something in Billy Topsail's tone to make Doctor Luke lift his
brows and stare.
"What's that?" said he, smiling grimly.
"I says you'll not try."
Doctor Luke laughed uneasily.
"No?"
"No, sir."
Billy Topsail was a big boy. Doctor Luke measured his length and breadth
and power with new interest and recalled that he had always admired the
lusty proportions of the lad. Decidedly--Billy Topsail was a big
fellow! And Billy Topsail's intentions were plain.
"Now----" the Doctor began, argumentatively.
"'Tis no use, sir. I knows you."
Doctor Luke moved off a step. "But Billy, you see, my dear fellow----"
"No, sir!" Billy Topsail moved within reach.
"I'm quite sure----"
"No."
Doctor Luke stared at the breach of slush. He faced away, then,
abruptly. "Wel-ll," he admitted, with a shrug, "no doubt you're right,
Billy. I----"