The Giant of the North: Pokings Round the Pole. Robert Michael Ballantyne

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      The truth was that poor Benjy had suffered much during the sledge journey which they had begun, for although he rode, like the rest of them, on one of the Eskimo sledges, the ice over which they had travelled along shore had been sufficiently rugged to necessitate constant getting off and on, as well as much scrambling over hummocks and broken ice. We have already said that Benjy was not very robust, though courageous and full of spirit, so that he was prone to leap from the deepest depths of despair to the highest heights of hope at a moment’s notice—or vice versa. Not having become inured to ice-travel, he was naturally much cast down when the chaos above-mentioned met his gaze.

      “Strange,” said the Captain, after a long silent look at the barrier, “strange that we should find it here. The experience of former travellers placed it considerably to the south and west of this.”

      “But you know,” said Leo, “Chingatok told us that the old ice drifts about just as the more recently formed does. Who knows but we may find the end of it not far off, and perhaps may reach open water beyond, where we can make skin canoes, and launch forth on a voyage of discovery.”

      “I vote that we climb the cliffs and try to see over the top of this horrid ice-jumble,” said Benjy.

      “Not a bad suggestion, lad. Let us do so. We will encamp here, Anders. Let all the people have a good feed, and tell Chingatok to follow us. You will come along with him.”

      A few hours later, and the Captain, Leo, Alf, Benjy, Chingatok, and the interpreter stood on the extreme summit of the promontory which they had named Cape Chaos, and from which they had a splendid bird’s-eye view of the whole region.

      It was indeed a tremendous and never-to-be-forgotten scene.

      As far as the eye could reach, the ocean was covered with ice heaped together in some places in the wildest confusion, and so firmly wedged in appearance that it seemed as if it had lain there in a solid mass from the first day of creation. Elsewhere the ice was more level and less compact. In the midst of this rugged scene, hundreds of giant icebergs rose conspicuously above the rest, towering upwards in every shape and of all sizes, from which the bright sun was flashed back in rich variety of form, from the sharp gleam that trickled down an edge of ice to the refulgent blaze on a glassy face which almost rivalled the sun himself in brilliancy. These icebergs, extending as they did to the horizon, where they mingled with and were lost in the pearl-grey sky, gave an impression of vast illimitable perspective. Although no sign of an open sea was at first observed, there was no lack of water to enliven the scene, for here and there, and everywhere, were pools and ponds, and even lakes of goodly size, which had been formed on the surface by the melting ice. In these the picturesque masses were faithfully reflected, and over them vast flocks of gulls, eider-ducks, puffins, and other wild-fowl of the north, disported themselves in garrulous felicity.

      On the edge of the rocky precipice, from which they had a bird’s-eye view of the scene, our discoverers stood silent for some time, absorbed in contemplation, with feelings of mingled awe and wonder. Then exclamations of surprise and admiration broke forth.

      “The wonderful works of God!” said the Captain, in a tone of profound reverence.

      “Beautiful, beyond belief!” murmured Alf.

      “But it seems an effectual check to our advance,” said the practical Leo, who, however, was by no means insensible to the extreme beauty of the scene.

      “Not effectual, lad; not effectual,” returned the Captain, stretching out his hand and turning to the interpreter; “look, Anders, d’ye see nothing on the horizon away to the nor’ard? Isn’t that a bit of water-sky over there?”

      “Ya,” replied the interpreter, gazing intently, “there be watter-sky over there. Ya. But not possobubble for go there. Ice too big an’ brokkin up.”

      “Ask Chingatok what he thinks,” returned the Captain.

      Chingatok’s opinion was that the water-sky indicated the open sea. He knew that sea well—had often paddled over it, and his own country lay in it.

      “But how ever did he cross that ice?” asked the Captain; “what says he to that, Anders?”

      “I did not cross it,” answered the Eskimo, through Anders. “When I came here with my party the ice was not there; it was far off yonder.”

      He pointed to the eastward.

      “Just so,” returned the Captain, with a satisfied nod, “that confirms my opinion. You see, boys, that the coast here trends off to the East’ard in a very decided manner. Now, if that was only the shore of a bay, and the land again ran off to the nor’ard, it would not be possible for such a sea of ice to have come from that direction. I therefore conclude that we are standing on the most northern cape of Greenland; that Greenland itself is a huge island, unconnected with the Polar lands; that we are now on the shores of the great Polar basin, in which, somewhere not very far from the Pole itself, lies the home of our friend Chingatok—at least so I judge from what he has said. Moreover, I feel sure that the water-sky we see over there indicates the commencement of that ‘open sea’ which, I hold, in common with many learned men, lies around the North Pole, and which I am determined to float upon before many days go by.”

      “We’d better spread our wings then, father, and be off at once,” said Benjy; “for it’s quite certain that we’ll never manage to scramble over that ice-jumble with sledges.”

      “Nevertheless, I will try, Benjy.”

      “But how, uncle?” asked Leo.

      “Ay, how?” repeated Alf, “that is the question.”

      “Come, come, Alf, let Shakespeare alone,” said the pert Benjy, “if you must quote, confine yourself to Buzzby.”

      “Nay, Benjy, be not so severe. It was but a slip. Besides, our leader has not forbidden our carrying a whole library in our heads, so long as we take only one book in our pockets. But, uncle, you have not yet told us how you intend to cross that amazing barrier which Benjy has appropriately styled an ice-jumble.”

      “How, boy?” returned the Captain, who had been gazing eagerly in all directions while they talked, “it is impossible for me to say how. All that I can speak of with certainty as to our future movements is, that the road by which we have come to the top of this cliff will lead us to the bottom again, where Toolooha is preparing for us an excellent supper of bear-steaks and tea. One step at a time, lads, is my motto; when that is taken we shall see clearly how and where to take the next.”

      A sound sleep was the step which the whole party took after that which led to the bear-steaks. Then Captain Vane arose, ordered the dogs to be harnessed to the sledges, and, laying his course due north, steered straight out upon the sea of ancient ice.

      Chapter Eight.

      Difficulties and Dangers increase, and the Captain expounds his Views

      The first part of the journey over the rugged ice was not so difficult as had been anticipated, because they found a number of openings—narrow lanes, as it were—winding between the masses, most of which were wide enough to permit of the passage of the sledges; and when they chanced to come on a gap that was too narrow, they easily widened it with their hatchets and ice-chisels.

      There was, however, some danger connected with this process, for some of the mighty blocks of ice amongst which they moved were piled in such positions that it only required a few choppings at their base to bring СКАЧАТЬ