CHAPTER XIV.

THE BREAK-UP OF WINTER.

Spring was rapidly approaching now. Occasionally for a day or two

southerly winds set in and rain fell in torrents, then again the Arctic

currents prevailed, and everything was frozen as hard as before. Flocks

of geese passed over, flying north, but returned again when the cold set

in afresh. Small birds, too, in great numbers made their appearance,

crowding on patches of ground that the sun and rain had cleared of snow,

fluttering round the tents in flocks, picking up scraps of food that had

been thrown out, and keeping the dogs in a state of perpetual

excitement. The Ostjaks said that the break-up of the ice might come any

day, or it might be delayed for another month; it depended less upon the

weather here than on that higher up. It is not the sun or the rain that

breaks up the ice, but the rise of the river from the snow melting a

thousand miles higher up, and all over the country drained by the rivers

running into the Yenesei.

The women were now making a canoe under Godfrey's instructions. He had

often gone out in canoes on the Severn and on the sea when staying at

watering-places there. The craft that had done them such good service

before would not do for their present undertaking. They required a boat

which should be fairly fast, sea-worthy, and yet light, for it might be

necessary to carry it considerable distances. It was necessary that its

dimensions should exceed those of an English canoe, for it must carry a

considerable amount of food, although of course he meant to depend

chiefly on the fishing-lines and gun. It was made five-and-twenty feet

long, and three feet wide. The central compartment was thirteen feet

long. This was covered in at the sides and ends, leaving an opening for

them to sit and paddle, fifteen inches wide, and five feet long.

Underneath the covered parts provisions, furs, cooking utensils, &c.,

could be stowed away on both sides, leaving room for them to lie down at

full length in the centre.

The two end compartments were entirely covered in, but had openings over

which a cover was lashed, and could, if necessary, be used for holding

stores; but Godfrey did not intend to put anything here except

temporarily, as it was important that the canoe should be as buoyant and

light as possible. The frame of the boat was built of the tough and

elastic wood of which the Ostjaks made their bows. It was very light,

the ribs being bound to the longitudinal pieces by fine gut. It was

built, as nearly as Godfrey could lay them out, on the lines of an

English cruising canoe. The deck strips were similarly lashed, and when

the framework was completed Godfrey tested its strength by dropping it

three feet to the ground, rolling it over and over, and trying it in a

variety of ways.

When fully satisfied with it the work of putting on the cover commenced.

This was made of very soft and well-tanned reindeer hide, stretched as

tightly as possible, and then rubbed with seal oil. The keel of the boat

had been made very strong, as the rigidity of the whole craft depended

upon this. It had been made flat, and the skins had been taken over it.

When it was finished a false keel six inches in depth in the centre,

tapering away to nothing at the ends, was fixed underneath. This keel

was also made of tough wood, a little more than a quarter of an inch

thick, but widening suddenly to over an inch where it touched the boat,

in order that it might be securely fixed with screws to the keel inside.

The boat was provided with a light mast, which could be stepped or

unstepped at pleasure, and there were two stays of twisted leather, one

fastening to each side of the boat. An iron ring with a cord travelled

up and down the mast, the halliard running through a small block, as

Luka had been able to obtain a sheave at Turukhansk. The sail was a lug

made of sheeting, oiled, and the boat carried beside a triangular sail

of very much smaller dimensions and stouter cloth for heavy weather. She

also carried a small mizzen mast and sail. In rough weather the cockpit

could be completely covered with a light apron with openings where the

rowers sat, with a sort of collar, which could be lashed tightly round

their waists. The edges of this apron could be lashed down over the

gunwale round the cockpit. When completed the canoe itself, with its

mast and sails, weighed but sixty pounds, and could be carried with ease

by one person on his shoulder.

The Ostjaks greatly admired the craft, which was entirely different from

anything they had ever seen. The false keel puzzled them greatly, and

Godfrey's explanations, even when aided by Luka, failed altogether in

making them understand that it would have the effect of enabling the

craft to sail near the wind without drifting to leeward. The additional

draught of water was no inconvenience whatever in a craft designed for

the sea, and it added materially to the strength of the canoe. On the

15th of May it was freezing hard. The natives going down to the water's

edge in the morning reported a sudden rise of three feet in the river.

It continued to rise all day, and by nightfall was fifteen feet above

its former level.

In the evening the north wind dropped suddenly, and an hour later it

sprang up from the south, and by midnight a torrent of rain was falling.

Godfrey could hear sounds like the reports of cannon above the pattering

of the rain on the skins, and knew that it must be the ice breaking. In

the morning when he looked out the whole mass of ice seemed to be

moving. Black cracks showed everywhere across the white surface. The

river had during the night risen another twenty feet. By mid-day the

scene was a wild one indeed. No longer was the surface smooth. Hurrying

along at the rate of fifteen miles an hour the great masses of ice were

dashed against each other by the force of the current.

Two miles lower down the river narrowed suddenly, and here a block was

formed. Some of the pieces of ice were thrust down, others climbed over

them, thrusting themselves one on the top of the other till a ridge

thirty or forty feet high was formed from bank to bank. At times this

gave way, and then the whole was whirled down the stream, while another

ridge at once commenced to form. Godfrey walked down to the point and

stood for hours looking at the scene. The great blocks of ice, six or

eight feet thick, seemed almost to be endowed with vitality as they

climbed one above the other, until thrust off the crest of the ridge by

the pressure of those behind them. The din was prodigious, a crackling,

rustling, roaring sound, with sharp explosions and deep muffled booming.

The whole air seemed to quiver with sound, and the loudest shout would

have been inaudible a yard or two away. Below the ridge the river, so

long as the barrier stood, was comparatively clear, but from time to

time great masses of ice that had been sunk by the pressure and swept

along under the ridge came to the surface with a surge that lifted one

end high out of the water, reminding Godfrey of the spring of some

enormous fish; then the ice would come down with a mighty splash, and

hasten away reeling and rocking on the rapid current. Entranced by this

mighty conflict of the forces of nature, Godfrey stood there until seven

or eight o'clock in the evening.

It would be light for three hours yet, for the sun now only sank for a

short time below the horizon. The rain was still falling heavily when he

returned to his hut. The river had risen another thirty feet since the

evening before, and the height of the bank had decreased from a hundred

feet to about thirty. For two more days it rained incessantly. The river

had now risen to its high-water mark, ten feet below the bank. Godfrey

asked the Ostjaks if there was no fear of its overflowing, but they told

him that there was no cause for uneasiness, for that at its present

point it overflowed at many places both above and below them, and

extended over a vast tract of country, and that at every additional foot

it would spread so widely that it would speedily begin to fall again.

The ridge had now ceased to form, although the river was still packed

with floating masses.

"In another two days," the Ostjaks' chief said, "the ice will be all

gone except a few blocks. Much of the ice above is carried out by the

floods and left to melt on the land as the water lowers, but even

without that the river at its present rate would soon carry it all

down."

This Godfrey could well imagine, for at the rate of fifteen miles an

hour over three hundred and sixty miles of the river would have been

emptying daily. At the end of another three days but few blocks of ice

were visible, and Godfrey now began to make preparations for his start.

First the canoe was to be tried. She was taken down and placed in the

water, and the sides under the half-decks were filled in with frozen

geese and fish from the pile, which was still but little affected by the

thaw.

When she was thus brought down to nearly the weight she would have to

carry, Godfrey and Luka took their places in her, dipped their paddles

in the stream, shot out, and paddled about for some time in the still

water behind the shelter of the point. Godfrey found to his satisfaction

that she paddled easily, quite answering to his expectations. Then Luka,

who had already practised the manoeuvre on shore, stepped the masts,

fastened the stays, and hoisted the sails. There was a light breeze from

the south, and the boat ran rapidly along before it till it was again

abreast of the village, then she was put about and made short tacks in

the dead-water. Godfrey found that she stood stiffly up to the canvas,

and, as far as he could see, made little or no leeway. Then he returned

to the village. The Ostjaks, who seldom made use of sails, and then only

when dead before the wind, were perfectly astounded alike at the

rapidity with which the boat glided through the water and at the ease

with which she came about, and were astonished beyond measure at seeing

her make a zigzag progress in the teeth of the wind.

Early the next morning the rest of the preparations were completed. The

tea, tobacco, cooking utensils, and other necessaries were stowed away

under the deck astern of Godfrey, together with twenty pounds of fat.

This had been carefully set aside for the purpose when animals were

killed and cut up. It had been melted down in the chief's large pot and

poured into a tin drinking-mug, in which four strands of unravelled cord

had been placed to act as wicks. The tin was dipped in ice water, and in

a few minutes the fat solidified, then the tin was dipped again, this

time in hot water, and the short fat candle with its four wicks then

came easily out, and the process was repeated. These candles weighed

just about a pound each. Godfrey collected fat enough to make fifty, but

being afraid of overburdening the canoe he decided that twenty must

suffice, believing that he would be able to pick up drift-wood as they

coasted along.

A store of pine-wood torches was lashed on the deck on each side of the

mast forward of Luka, the fishing spears, hatchets, and other articles

for trade stowed away, the furs and their winter garments laid thickly

at the bottom of the boat. They took with them Jack, Godfrey's favourite

dog, and then, bestowing all the rest of their possessions on the

Ostjaks, they took a hearty farewell of them, stepped on board, and

started. They had at the last moment decided to take their old boat also

with them. This was fastened by a tow-rope behind the canoe. It was

filled with frozen provisions, having been first lined with rough furs,

others were laid closely over them. In this way Godfrey calculated that

they would remain frozen for a long time. The rest of the store of flour

and a stock of firewood were added.

As to the extra weight of towing the canoe it was immaterial, as until

they reached the mouth of the river there would be no occasion for

paddling, and beyond that the stock of provisions could be transferred

to their own canoe to take the place of those used up on the way, and

the craft could then be cast adrift. As there was a light breeze,

however, the sail was hoisted, rather because it gave them steerage way

than for any increase to their speed. As soon as the canoe shot out into

the rougher water in the full force of the stream, Godfrey was still

more delighted with the boat, the empty compartments fore and aft

rendering her exceedingly buoyant. She had been built with somewhat

higher sides than the canoes Godfrey had seen at home, and rose a good

deal towards the ends; and she floated as lightly as a cork on the

surface of the water. That afternoon they passed Turukhansk. Below this

the river widened out. In the evening they lowered the sail, as they did

not wish to run the risk of striking either the shore or a piece of ice

that might have got delayed on its journey. All night they hurried on,

lying snugly in the bottom of the boat with the apron closed overhead.

In the morning they found they were not far from the left bank, and that

the river now was more than four miles wide. The sail was again hoisted

and breakfast made, after which they got out their lines and hooks,

baited, and dropped them into the water. During the course of the day

they caught several fish, and picked up a considerable quantity of

floating wood, which they stowed in the large canoe.

"I think, Luka," Godfrey said, "that instead of letting our old boat go

we may as well keep it for a time. As long as there is wind, it makes no

great difference to our speed, though, of course, it would be heavy if

we were paddling. If we had bad weather we could land and turn it bottom

upwards, and there would be a hut ready made for us. This canoe is all

right for sleeping in when the water is smooth, but with its deep keel

we could not sleep in it ashore."

Luka was, as usual, quite of Godfrey's opinion. After this they made the

old boat their kitchen, for there was but little room in the canoe for

cooking purposes; and it was, moreover, a relief to get into the roomy

craft where they could move about as they pleased. As drift-wood was

abundant they made their fires entirely of this, keeping their candles

for the time when they might have to leave their store-boat behind them.

On the third day the river widened out greatly. They could no longer see

the right bank, and Godfrey concluded that they were now in the Gulf of

Yenesei.

"The weather is going to change," Luka said the next morning; "the wind

will soon be coming from the north; going to blow hard."

"In that case, Luka, the sooner we are ashore the better. The current

now is nothing like so swift as it was. I don't think we are going past

the land at more than three miles an hour, but that would be quite

enough if the wind comes from the north to knock up a nasty sea in no

time. Let us get our paddles out; there is not a breath of wind."

In half an hour they reached the shore, but had to coast along for some

time before they found a place free of rocks.

"This will do, Luka, we are not a minute too soon; those puffs just now

were so strong that we made no way against them. Now, then, jump out and

get the canoe high and dry."

They had retained their long boots, and stepped out into water up to

their knees. Then they lifted the canoe and carried it ashore.

"It is heavier than it was when we put it in," Luka said.

"I should think so. What with the furs and provisions, candles, and one

thing and another, there must be a hundred and fifty pounds weight in

her. There, put her down here, Luka, and let us get the other up. We

must take the things out first. Quick, man, the wind is getting up fast.

Isn't it cold; we shall want our fur jackets on directly." The firewood

and provisions were carried up some distance above the water's edge, and

then the boat was lifted and placed beside them. A thick sleet had now

set in, and the wind was blowing with tremendous gusts.

"Now, then, look about, Luka, and see if you can find a sheltered nook.

I will pile stones into the well of the canoe so as to anchor her

safely. If she were to be rolled over and over her skin would soon be

cut to pieces."

Before he had finished this Luka returned. "Good place here," he said.

"Good shelter."

"We'll finish this job first, Luka. This is much more important than our

getting wet."

As soon as it was done they went to the large canoe, and lifting it

carried it away to the place Luka had found--a ridge of rock running

back at a right angle from the shore, with a perpendicular face some

twelve feet high. At one point there was a deep cleft in it, some eight

feet wide at the mouth and narrowing gradually in.

"Capital, Luka; we shall be as snug as possible here. Now, turn her over

and take her in."

The cleft was so deep that the stern of the boat was, when she was laid

down bow foremost, fully fifteen feet inside the entrance.

"Now it may blow as much as it likes," Godfrey said, "it won't hurt us

here. Now do you go and get some of the firewood. I will fetch some

skins from the canoe, and the sails."

After getting out some provisions, the cooking utensils, and a couple of

the candles, Godfrey returned to the boat. Then he made another journey

for some more skins and the two sails. By this time the wind was blowing

so fiercely that he could scarcely stagger along with his load. The sea

was covered with white heads, and the waves were breaking noisily

against the rocks. Luka had already brought up plenty of firewood, and

had thrown a large skin over the furs containing the frozen fish, and

piled stones on it to prevent its being blown away.

"Now, where will you put the fire?" he asked. "If you put it inside it

would burn the boat, if you put it outside it would be no good to us."

"I quite see that, Luka. We must make ourselves comfortable, for this

storm may last for days for anything I know. We must prop this end of

the boat up so that we can sit upright under it with something to spare.

We must pile up some stones a couple of feet high under each gunwale."

In a quarter of an hour this was done. The sail was then laid over the

boat, the ends being kept down by stones.

"That is snug," Godfrey said. "Now we will put the mizzen over forward

so as to keep the wind out right along." There were four feet of head

room at the entrance to the boat tent, and in front of this the fire was

soon lit, one of the pine torches being cut up to start it with. The

skins were laid upon the ground, and taking off their wet coats they put

on fur jackets. "Now we can see about breakfast, Luka."

Luka had run down and filled the kettle, while Godfrey was fastening

down the sail. This was placed on the fire, and as soon as it began to

burn clear some of the fish they had caught the day before were laid on

the glowing embers, together with two legs of a goose.

"The thing we are going to have most trouble about, Luka, is fresh

water," Godfrey said as they ate their breakfast. Luka looked surprised.

"When we once get beyond the stream of the Yenesei," he went on, "the

water will be salt."

"Salt!" Luka repeated.

"Yes, too salt to make tea with. We shall be all right for a time, no

doubt. What with the melting snow and the rains we have had, there are

sure to be lots of little streams running into the sea; but when the

land dries we shall be in a bad way."

Luka looked serious; this was altogether beyond his experience.

"Of course if we can get plenty of fresh fish we shall get on fairly, as

we sha'n't require much to drink. We will look about the rivers when I

can get at the map. I know there is a small one called the Gida running

in just between the mouths of the Yenesei and Obi; and there is the Kara

on farther, and then the Petchora. As far as I can remember that is all

that were marked, but of course there may be lots of little streams that

were not put down. There is one thing, if we find that we generally get

wind, and can keep the big boat with us, we could make her carry water

as well as fuel. She would hold any quantity, for half a dozen barrels

would not sink her above an inch. We should certainly get out of the

difficulty that way. It gave me quite a fright at first. I felt so sure

that I had thought of everything, and there, I never for a moment

thought about the sea being salt. How it is blowing outside! It is lucky

indeed you have found such a snug corner, Luka, for if we had been out

in the open we could only have piled stones in the boat to prevent it

blowing away, and lain at full length underneath her, which would be all

well enough for one night, but would be a frightful nuisance if it had

to go on for three or four days."

So sheltered were they, indeed, that they scarce felt the wind that was

howling above them, and were as comfortable beneath their boat as they

had been in their hut by the river side.

"When it is as rough as this in the gulf, Luka, it will be tremendous

out at sea."

Luka had never seen waves higher than those in some of the rapids of the

upper river, and he was astonished at the white-headed waves and at the

showers of spray they sent up as they struck the rocks.

"Are the waves ever much bigger than this?" he asked.

"Bigger! I should think so. Out in the open sea one of the waves would

make a hundred of these."

"Then they must break the vessels to pieces, Godfrey?"

"No, they are built very stout and strong, and very big. They get broken

to pieces if the sea drives them against rocks, and sometimes in very

great storms get so beaten by the waves that the planks open and the

water runs in and they sink."

"I should not like to go to sea if the waves were like that," Luka said

thoughtfully. "This is terrible. Why, if we had not come ashore in time

the boat would have sunk."

"She would have made a good fight for it, Luka. With the apron tied in

round us we could stand a very heavy sea. So long as we keep her head to

the waves the water might wash over us, but it could not get in; and

even if it did fill the space where we sleep, the compartments at the

ends are quite buoyant enough to keep her up."

"What would you do if you were out in what you call a great sea,

Godfrey?"

"I should lash the mast and the sail and our paddles and the firewood

together, fasten our mooring rope to them and throw them overboard, that

would keep us head to sea--because these things would all float in the

water, and the wind would not get hold of them. They call a contrivance

like that a floating anchor. Then we would both lie down in the bottom,

button the flaps over the holes in the cover, and lie there as snugly as

possible. You see our weight would be down quite low in the boat then,

and that would keep her steady. Oh, we should get on capitally if there

were plenty of room for us to drift."

"How far have we to go now?"

"I can't exactly tell you. I wish I knew. From the long jagged cape,

which is the northern point of land on the western side of the Gulf of

Yenesei and forms the separation between it and the mouth of the Gulf of

Obi, to Waigatz Straits, between the mainland and Waigatz Island, which

lies south of the island called Nova Zembla, is about two hundred and

fifty miles in a straight line, but I should think it is quite three

times that if we have to follow all the ins and outs of the shore. From

there to Archangel, if we go in to Archangel, is about three hundred and

fifty miles more, cutting across everything. If we had a current with

us, like the stream of the Yenesei, we should make very short work of

it; but unfortunately there is nothing of that sort. Paddling steadily

we might go three miles an hour--say a hundred miles in three days. If

we had wind that would help us, of course we should go a great deal

faster, because we should paddle and sail too."

"But if we don't go to the place you call Archangel, where should we

go?"

"We should keep far north of it, Luka, and sailing in a straight line

nearly due west, should strike the northern coast of Norway somewhere or

other. I should say, from what I saw of it on the map, it would be five

hundred miles from Waigatz. But that would be madness for us to attempt.

We might get caught in terrible storms; we might get into fogs, and as

we have no compass there we should lie, not knowing which way to go. No,

we must stick to the land till we get to the mouth of the White Sea.

With a favourable wind we should get across that in a day, and then go

on coasting again till we get beyond the Russian frontier; then at the

first village we come to we land, find out all about the distances, and

arrange to get taken in reindeer sledges to some regular settlement."

"What sort of people are they there?" Luka asked.

"They are the same sort of people as the Samoyedes. I don't know that

they are just the same. Anyhow, they speak the same sort of language.

Well, you know the Northern Ostjaks we stayed with speak nearly the same

as the Samoyedes. You could hardly get on with them at first, because

their talk was so different to that of the Southern Ostjaks; but you got

to speak it quite easily at last. So I have no doubt you will be able to

make any natives you may meet, whether they are Samoyedes or anything

else, understand you without difficulty.

"What is it, Jack? What are you whining about?" he asked the dog, who,

having made a hearty meal, had been lying down between them while they

were talking, but who now sat up, snuffing and whining uneasily.

"It may be either a fox or a bear," Luka said, making his way farther

back into the hut, and returning with his bow and arrows, Godfrey's gun,

and the two spears.

"I hope it is a bear," Godfrey said as he removed the charges of shot,

and rammed down bullets in their place. "We don't want any more skins,

unless it happens to be a black fox, which would be worth having, but a

supply of bear meat would come in very handy."

The dog's whine presently changed into an angry growl.

"Bear sure enough. I expect he knows of this place, and has come here

for shelter. He had much better have left it alone. It is lucky for us

that the fire has burnt low; it would have scared him if it had been

blazing. Lie down, Jack."

Lying perfectly still they presently heard a sharp snuffing noise, and a

minute or two later a bear came round a corner of the rock. Astonished

at the sight of the white object, the animal sat up on its haunches.

"Now!" Luka exclaimed, and discharged his arrow at the same moment that

Godfrey had pulled his trigger. The arrow struck the bear in the throat,

and such was the force with which it was sent that the head showed at

the back of the neck. Godfrey's bullet struck it in the chest, and the

bear at once rolled over. Thinking it was killed, he crawled from under

the boat and ran forward, but the animal suddenly rose to its feet;

running up alongside, he placed the muzzle close to its ear and pulled

the other trigger.

[Illustration: LUKA FACES THE BEAR.]

"It is dead now, Luka," he shouted as he bent over it. At the same

moment he heard a cry of warning, and was simultaneously struck a heavy

blow which stretched him on the ground beside the bear. It flashed

through his mind that his assailant was the female bear. He had heard

from the Ostjaks that the best plan, if attacked by an enraged bear, was

to sham death, and he therefore lay without moving a muscle as he was

struck down. He heard the twang of Luka's bow, and Jack's sharp

barking close to his ear. Then with a deep angry growl the bear left him

and rushed towards the tent. Godfrey at once sprang to his feet. He had

not brought his spear with him as he crawled out, but he sprang to the

fire and dragged out a brand. Luka had discharged another arrow, and

Jack was harassing the bear by snapping at its hind-legs. In terror for

the safety of the canoe rather than that of Luka, who could, he knew,

well defend himself, Godfrey leapt forward and struck the bear across

the nose with the brand. With a roar of fury it turned upon him, but as

it did so it exposed its side to Luka, who discharged another arrow

behind its shoulder. It rolled over and over, but again gained its feet.

The pause, however, had given Luka time to emerge from under the boat

with his spear in his hand, and running up he thrust it right through

the body, and the bear fell over dead. Then he ran to Godfrey.

"Are you hurt?" he asked.

"I am hurt a bit, Luka, for I felt a sharp pain as the beast knocked me

over, but I do not think it can be much. It was very lucky that we put

our fur jackets on again; if it hadn't been for that, I expect he would

have regularly laid open my shoulder."

He took off his coat. The bear's claws had penetrated through the skin,

and had scored three gashes on his shoulder. But these, Luka said, were

of no great depth, and beyond making his arm stiff for paddling for a

day or two would matter little.

They at once set about skinning the two bears, put the four hams

carefully aside, cut off most of the meat, gave Jack another hearty

meal, and then retired again to their shelter.

"My heart was in my mouth when I saw him rushing at the tent; if he had

struck the boat, or thrown his weight upon it, it would have been a

terrible business."

"I was afraid too," Luka said. "I was just going to shoot again when you

struck him on the nose, and so gave me a chance of hitting him in a

vital spot. If it hadn't been for your blow I should hardly have stopped

him; he was so close that even if I wounded him mortally he would have

come down on the boat."

"Well, it is fortunate it has ended so, Luka; it will be a lesson to me

when I shoot a bear next to look out for its mate, and also not to leave

my spear behind me, or to advance towards a bear I think dead until I

have loaded my gun again."

For two days longer they had to remain in their shelter; but the third

morning when they awoke the wind had died away, and the sun was shining

brightly. As there was still some sea on, Godfrey determined to stay

another day and explore the coast a little. Leaving Luka to look after

the boats and goods in case any more bears might be in the

neighbourhood, he started with Jack. He was amazed at the quantity of

birds that he met with--thrushes, wagtails, warblers, chifchaffs,

fieldfares, and red-poles rose at every step. The air quivered with the

song of innumerable larks, which mingled with those of the

willow-warblers; snipe in considerable numbers sprang up and darted off

with a sharp cry from almost under his feet; plovers circled round and

round; ducks of various kinds passed between the shore, and, as Godfrey

supposed, inland swamps or lakes; martins in great numbers darted hither

and thither hawking for insects. Occasionally birds, which he supposed

to be grouse, rose with a loud whirr.

Short as was the time since the snow had cleared off the ground, spring

had come in with marvellous rapidity. The grass was already well-nigh

knee-deep, and flowers of various kinds were in full bloom. Where the

ground was comparatively bare of grass, it was studded with the yellow

blossoms of wild heart's-ease, and amongst some stunted alder-trees

Godfrey found a dwarf rose already in bud, and wild onions and wild

rhubarb in flower. Then he came upon a broad expanse of a shrub that

looked to him like a rhododendron, with a flower with a strong aromatic

scent. Several times he heard the call of a cuckoo. On a patch of sand

there were some wild anemones in blossom. Godfrey pulled a bulb of wild

onion, cut off a slice and tasted it. It was similar in flavour to the

cultivated plant, but very sharp and acrid. However he set to work, and

pulled up several dozen bulbs. They were small, not exceeding the size

of a radish, but they would be very valuable, as one of them chopped

fine would be sufficient to give a savour to a whole goose.

Turning to the right and coming down upon the shore he saw that the edge

of the water was fringed with seagulls of various kinds picking up tiny

fish as the waves broke in sandy coves, or scuttling into the water and

making sudden dips and dives into it. Farther out flocks of black ducks

were feeding, while two or three pairs of swans passed overhead going

north. Presently he saw three or four native huts ahead; some reindeer

were grazing near them, and three boats were hauled upon the shore.

These were doubtless Samoyedes. As soon as he caught sight of them he

turned. He had heard that the Samoyedes, although more friendly than the

Tunguses with strangers, were much less to be depended upon than the

Ostjaks, and as he had no faith in being able to explain what he was

doing there with his comparatively limited command of the Ostjak

language, he thought it better to return at once to Luka. He found when

he reached the tent that the Tartar was beginning to feel anxious, for

he had been four hours absent. As they had abundance of food, and had no

occasion to trade with the natives at present, they decided not to pay a

visit to them.

As soon as dinner had been cooked, they set to work to get everything in

readiness for a start. The stores were taken out of the canoe, and she

was carried down to within a few feet of the water. The tent was

dismantled, and the boat also carried down. Then they devoted themselves

for the rest of the afternoon to collecting more drift-wood, for the

water was again falling, and the highest level it had reached was strewn

with debris. As there was now no practical distinction between night and

day they lay down and slept for four or five hours, then put the large

canoe into the water, and placed the firewood in her, with the stock of

flour, frozen meat, and the bears' flesh; then with the kettle and

frying-pan they baled eight or ten buckets of water into her, for

Godfrey did not know how soon the river would become brackish. They

spread the bear-skin over all, then having carefully repacked the canoe,

they put her also into the water, stepped the mast, took their places in

her, hoisted the sail, and with the boat in tow started north again.

The wind was from the south, and with the assistance of the current they

went along rapidly; but, nevertheless, the paddles were got to work, as,

now that they were fairly on their way again, every mile gained was of

importance. They kept about a mile from shore so as to take advantage of

the current. In twenty minutes the native encampment was passed. They

saw no one moving about there, and supposed that they must all be

asleep, for the sun was low down on the horizon. Godfrey's watch was

still going, but as he had had no opportunity of comparing it with any

other timepiece for just a year, he could only consider it to be an

approximate guide. Once a month or so he had made a point of setting it.

This he did by sticking up a pole and measuring the shadow it cast,

knowing that this would be at its shortest at twelve o'clock. By this

means he calculated that he was never more than half an hour wrong.

The shore continued very flat, and once or twice they saw sand-banks

stretching out a considerable distance. Sometimes both paddled,

sometimes Godfrey steered only and Luka laid in his paddle. Three times

in the course of the day the big canoe was pulled up, and Luka went on

board and cooked a meal, the flat slab on which they lit their fire

having been raised three or four inches above the bottom to keep it out

of the water. Hitherto Godfrey had done all the steering when the boat

was under sail, but he now instructed Luka. Little teaching was, indeed,

needed, as the steering was done with the paddle, and Luka was

accustomed to keeping the boat straight when paddling. He was, however,

nervous with the sail, which was boomed straight out with a light spar

Godfrey had cut for the purpose. However as the wind was dead aft there

was no fear of this jibing so long as the boat's course was kept true;

this was rendered all the more easy by the steady drag of the boat

astern.

Twelve hours after starting Godfrey told Luka to lie down and sleep, as

he intended that so long as they had favourable winds they should

continue their voyage without stopping. There was no occasion for going

ashore. The bears' flesh would last them as long as it kept good, and

they had plenty of water on board for at least a fortnight. In a few

minutes Luka was sound asleep. Jack lay on the deck in front of him,

sometimes sleeping, sometimes waking up, and giving a sharp bark in

reply to the cry of a sea-gull passing overhead, or a flock of black

ducks skimming along close to the surface of the water within fifty

yards of the boat.

Condemned as a Nihilist: A Story of Escape from Siberia · 第 14 / 18 章