A WONDERFUL YANKEE--"MAKING OFF" SKINS--PREPARING TO "BEAR UP"--THE
SUMMER HOME OF THE GIANT WALRUS--THE SHIPS PART.
In two days the ships sighted the island of Jan Mayen. As they neared
it, they found the ice so closely packed around the shore that all
approach even by boats was out of the question, so the sails were
clewed, the ice-anchors got out, and both ships made fast to the floe.
It was not long ere Captain Cobb was on board the _Arrandoon_, to
welcome our heroes back to "_his_ island of Jan Mayen."
He was profuse in his thanks for what he called the clever kindness of
Captain McBain, in saving his little yacht from a fatal accident among
the ice; and, of course, they would do him the honour to come on shore
and dine with him. He would take it as downright "mean" if they did
not.
There was no resisting such an appeal as this, so, leaving their ships
in charge of their respective mates, both McBain and Silas, in company
with our heroes--Sandy McFlail, Seth, and all--they trudged off over the
snowy bergs to take dinner in the hut of the bold Yankee astronomer.
Very unprepossessing, indeed, was the building to behold from the
outside, but no sooner had they entered, than they opened their eyes
wide with astonishment.
When our young friends had visited it before, the hut looked neither
more nor less than a big hall, or rather barn. But now--why, here were
all the luxuries of civilised life. The place was divided into
ante-room, saloon, and bed-chamber, and each apartment seemed more
comfortable than another. The walls of the saloon were covered with
rich tapestry, the floor with a soft thick carpet. There were couches
and easy-chairs and skins _galore_, and books and musical instruments.
A great stove, of American pattern, burned in the centre, giving out
warmth and making the room look doubly cheerful, and overhead swung an
immense lamp, which shed a soft, effulgent light everywhere, so that one
did not miss the windows, of which the hut was _minus_. At one end of
this apartment was a dining-table, as well laid and as prettily arranged
as if it stood in the dining-hall of a club-room in Pall Mall, and
beside the table were two sable waiters clad in white.
Captain Cobb seemed to thoroughly enjoy the looks of bewilderment and
wonder exhibited on the faces of his guests.
"Why," said McBain at last, "pardon me, but you Yankees are about the
most wonderful people on the face of the earth."
"Waal," said the Yankee, "I guess we like our little comforts, and don't
see any harm in having them."
"So long's we deserve them," put in Seth, who, at that moment, really
felt very proud of being a Yankee.
"Bravo! old man," cried his countryman; "let us shake your hand."
"And now, gentlemen," he continued, "sit in. I reckon the keen air and
the walk have given ye all an appetite."
Soups, fish, _entries_, joints--why I do not know what there was not in
the bill-of-fare. It was a banquet fit for a king.
"I can't make out how you manage it," said McBain. "Do you keep a
djin?"
Cobb laughed and summoned the cook. If he was not a djin, he was just
as ugly. Four feet high--not an inch more--with long arms, black skin,
flat face, and no nose at all worth mentioning. He was dressed as a
_chef_, however, and very polite, for at a motion from his master, he
salaamed very prettily and retired.
At dessert the host produced a zither, and, accompanying himself on this
beautiful instrument, sang to them. He drawled while talking, but he
sang most sweetly, and with a taste and feeling that quite charmed Rory,
and held Silas and the doctor spell-bound. He was indeed a wonderful
Yankee.
"Do you know," said Rory, "I feel for all the world like being in an
enchanted cave? Do sing again, if only one song."
It is needless to add that our friends spent the evening most enjoyably.
It was a red-letter night, and one they often looked back to with
pleasure, and talked about as they lay around their snuggery fire,
during the long dreary time they spent in the regions round the Pole.
"I'm glad, anyhow," said Captain Cobb, as he bade them good-bye on the
snow-clad beach, "that I've made it a kind o' pleasant for ye. Don't
forget to call as you come back, and if Cobb be here, why, Cobb will bid
you welcome. Farewell."
By eight bells in next morning watch everything was ready for a start.
The dogs--twelve in number--were got on board and duly kennelled, and
the old trapper was installed as whipper-in.
"But I guess," said Seth, "there won't be much whipping-in in the play.
Trapper Seth is one of those rare old birds who know the difference
between a dog and a door-knocker. Yes, Seth knows that there's more in
a good bed and a biscuit, with a kind word whenever it is needed, than
there is in all the cruel whips in existence."
The kennelling for the poor animals was got up under the supervision of
Ap and Seth himself. It was built on what the trapper called
"scientific principles."
There was a yard or ran in common for the whole pack; but the large,
roomy sleeping compartment had a bench, on which all twelve dogs could
sleep or lie at once, yet nevertheless it was divided by boards about a
foot high into six divisions. This was to prevent the dogs all tumbling
into a heap when the ship rolled. The bedding was straw and shavings;
of the former commodity McBain had not forgotten to lay in a plentiful
supply before leaving Scotland. There was, besides, a whole tankful of
Spratts' biscuits, so that what with these and the ship's scraps, it did
not seem at all likely that the dogs would go hungry to bed for some
time to come.
Seth was now much happier on board than ever he had been, because he had
duties to perform and an office to fill, humble though it might be.
At half-past eight Silas came on board the _Arrandoon_ to breakfast.
Allan and Rory were tramping rapidly up and down the deck to keep
themselves warm, for, though the wind was blowing west-south-west, it
was bitterly cold, and the "barber" was blowing. The barber is a name
given to a light vapoury mist that, when the frost is intense and the
wind in pertain directions, is seen rising off the sea in Greenland. I
have called it a mist, but it in reality partakes more of the nature of
steam, being due to the circumstance of the air being ever so much
colder than the surface of the water.
Oh! but it is a cold steam--a bitter, biting, killing steam. Woe be to
the man who exposes his ears to it, or who does not keep constantly
rubbing his nose when walking or sailing in it, for want of precaution
in this respect may result in the loss of ears or nose, and both
appendages are useful, not to say ornamental.
"Good morning," cried Silas, jumping down on to the deck.
"The top of the morning to you, friend Silas," said Rory; "how do you
feel after your blow-out at Captain Cobb's?"
"Fust-rate," said Silas--"just fust-rate; but where is Ralph and the
captain?"
"Ralph!" said Rory; "why, I don't suppose there is a bit of him to be
seen yet, except the extreme tip of his nose and maybe a morsel of his
Saxon chin; and as for the captain, he is busy in his cabin. Breakfast
all ready, is it, Peter? Thank you, Peter, we're coming down in a
jiffy."
Just as they entered the saloon by one door, McBain came in by another.
"Ah! good morning, Captain Grig," he cried, extending his hand. "Sit
down. Peter, the coffee. And now," he continued, "what think you of
the prospect? It isn't exactly a fair wind for you to bear up, is it?"
"The wind would do," said Silas; "but I'm hardly what you might call
tidy enough to bear up yet. It'll take us a week to make off our skins,
and a day more to clean up. I'd like to go home not only a bumper ship,
but a clean and wholesome sweet ship."
"Well, then," McBain said, "here is what I'll do for you."
"But you've done so much already," put in Silas, "that really--"
"Nonsense, man," cried McBain, interrupting him; "why, it has been all
fun to us. But I was going to say that instead of lying here for a
week, you had better sail north with us, Spitzbergen way, and my men
will help you to make off and tidy up. Who knows but that after that
you may get a fair wind to carry you right away south into summer
weather in little over a week?"
"Bless your heart!" said Silas; "the suggestion is a grand one. I close
with your offer at once. You see, sir, we Greenlandmen generally return
to harbour all dirty, outside anyhow, with our sides scraped clean o'
paint, and our masts and spars as black as a collier's."
"_You_ shan't, though," said McBain. "We'll spend a bucket or two of
paint over him, won't we, boys?"
"That will we," said Ralph and Allan, both in one breath.
"And I'll tell you what I'll do," added Rory.
"Something nice, I'm certain," said Silas.
"I'll paint and gild that Highland lassie of yours that you have for a
figure-head."
"Glorious! glorious!" cried Silas Grig.
"Why, my own wife won't know the ship. And, poor wee body! she'll be
down there looking anxiously enough out to sea when she hears I'm in the
offing. Oh, it will be glorious! Won't my matie be pleased when he
hears about it!"
"I say, though," said Rory, "I'll change the pattern of your Highland
lassie's tartan. She came to the country a Gordon, she shall return a
McGregor."
"Or a McFlail," suggested Sandy.
"Ha! ha! ha!" This was an impudent, derisive laugh from Cockie's cage,
which made everybody else laugh, and caused Sandy to turn red in the
face.
After breakfast the ice-anchors were cast off and got on board, and sail
set. The _Arrandoon_ led, keeping well clear of the ice, and taking a
course of north-east and by north. When well off the ice, and
everything working free and easy, McBain called all hands, and ordered
the men to lay aft.
"Men," he said, "you all signed articles to complete the voyage with me
to the Polar regions and back. Most of you knew, as you put your names
to the paper, what you were about, because you had been here before, but
some of you didn't. Now I am by no means short-handed, and if any of
you thinks he has had enough of it already, and would like to return to
his country, step forward and say so now, and I'll make arrangements
with Captain Grig for your passage back."
Not a man stirred.
"I will take it as a favour," continued the captain, "if any one who has
any doubts on his mind will come forward now. I want only willing hands
with me."
"We _are_ willing, we are willing hands," the men shouted.
"Beg your pardon, sir," said bold Ted Wilson, stepping forward, "but I
know the crew well. I'm sure they all feel thankful for your kind
offer, but ne'er a man Jack o' them would go back, if you offered to pay
him for doing so."
The captain bowed and thanked Ted, and the men gave one hearty cheer and
retired.
Once fairly at sea, McBain sent two whalers on board the _Scotia_, their
crews rigged out in working dress, and making off was at once commenced.
Upright boards were made fast here and there along the decks; the skins,
with their two or three inches of blubber attached, were handed up from
below, and the men set to work in this way--they stood at one side of
the board and spread the skin in front of them on the other; then they
leant over, and first cutting off all useless pieces of flesh, etc, they
next cleaned the blubber from off the skin. This was by other hands cut
into pieces about a foot square, carried away, and sent below to be
deposited in the tanks. Other workmen removed the cleaned skins. These
were dashed over with rough salt, rolled tightly and separately up, and
cast into tanks by themselves. This latter duty devolved upon the
mates, and old Silas himself stood, with book in hand, "taking tally,"
that is, counting the number of skins as they were passed one by one
below. The refuse, or "orra bits," as Scotch sailors call them, were
thrown overboard by bucketfuls, and over these thousands of screaming
gulls fought on the surface of the water, and scores of sharks
immediately beneath.
It was a busy scene, and one that can only be witnessed in Greenland
north.
In three days all the skins were made off and stowed away. All this
time the men had been as merry as sheep-shearers, and only on the last
day did Silas splice the main-brace, even then diluting the rum with
warm coffee.
Then came the cleaning up, and scouring of decks below and above, and
white-washing and mast-scraping. After this McBain sent his painters on
board, and in less than four-and-twenty hours she looked like a new
ship.
And Rory was busy below on the 'tween decks. The Highland lassie had
been unshipped, and taken below for him to paint and gild. Rory, mind
you, did not wish it to be unshipped. He would have preferred being
swung overboard. There would have been more fun in it, he said. But
Silas would not hear of such a thing. The cold, he feared, would benumb
him so that he might drop off into the sea, to the infinite joy and
satisfaction of a gang of unprincipled sharks that kept up with the
ship, but to the everlasting sorrow of him, Captain Silas Grig.
When the ship was all painted, and the masts scraped and varnished, and
the Highland lassie--brightly arrayed in gold and McGregor tartan--
re-shipped, why then, I do not think a prouder or happier man than Silas
Grig ever trod a quarter-deck.
The day after this everybody on the _Arrandoon_ was busy, busy, busy
writing letters for home.