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Steve Young, a fiction by George Manville Fenn |
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Chapter 29. The Healing Of A Feud |
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_ CHAPTER TWENTY NINE. THE HEALING OF A FEUD Upon the principle of making hay while the sun shone, the little imprisoned party worked hard amongst the walrus, and with so much success, that there seemed to be no doubt about the cargo defraying the expenses of the expedition, and, if it should prove necessary, paying for a second voyage the next year. "If we can get out," said Steve one day, when the subject was being discussed in the cabin. "We must take that for granted, my lad," said the captain. "There are many reasons why it is possible for the mass of ice at the bottom of the fiord to give way. The outside must always be weakening, and the pressure on the inner increasing by the constant flow of water into the fiord, which is rising day by day. That passage does not take off half as much as appears to come in somewhere from the rocks, and sooner or later this must break through the ice. If it comes to the worst, we must turn engineers and block the passage by blasting down stones in that narrowest part till we have dammed the way out. We should then turn this fiord into a lake, which would, sooner or later, burst down its southern bank." There was a little talk that evening, too, about the sun, whose career above the horizon was coming to an end, the height at noon being far less, and at midnight so close down to the horizon that it ceased to shine down into the glen, the rays being hid by the glacier. This fact brought forth serious thoughts, for it suggested the time when the brief summer would be drawing to a close, and the approach of that long period during which the arc described by the sun grew lower and lower until it ceased to appear at all, and then came the worst of the wintry time-- that when, saving the rays of the moon, stars, and aurora, there was no light. "I don't want to suggest difficulties," said the doctor suddenly; "but suppose, when the time for fine weather to be at an end comes, there is no chance of our escape--always supposing that we have seen nothing of the _Ice Blink_ people--what then?" "In plain English," said the captain, "we must make up our minds to pass the winter here." "The winter?" cried Steve. "Yes, my lad. Why not? We have snug, warm quarters, which we can make warmer, for I saw traces of coal up yonder in the valley close to the glacier. Food is plentiful, and what men have done before men can do again." "If there is no help for it, we must submit," said the doctor. "Better submit than venture to sea in these two boats," said the captain; "and in case of the first emergency, I propose that we begin exploring the land now. We have thoroughly examined all the coast that we could reach north and south." "And hunt as we go?" said the doctor. "And hunt as we go, so as to lay in a good store of fresh meat. This will freeze and keep any length of time. I don't think our prospects are so bad--that is, for seamen." "I thought we should have found some trace of our friends," said the doctor; but the captain shook his head. "It is all the merest chance," he said; "we have nothing to guide us. They might have been at Jan Mayen, or up on the north coast of Greenland or the coast of Spitzbergen, or they might be here in the next valley, or north or south where we could not penetrate. On the other hand, they may be in Novaya-Zemlya, or in some region of the far north never yet penetrated by others. Feeling all this has made me think that it will be by accident we shall meet our friends more than by searching; but we shall go on searching all the same." "Then you will make a start to-morrow?" "Yes, as soon as the carpenter has knocked together a few bars, to make a contrivance that I mean to be a hand-barrow for four or eight men when the ground is rough, and a sledge when it is smooth enough for them to pull it, or on snow." "Which way shall you go?" said Steve. "Couldn't we try the valley up by the glacier?" "That is where I mean to go first," said the captain, "so as to examine more fully those traces of coal; so let's go to rest in good time and start early." Steve went on deck to see to his dumb companions before retiring for the night, and found Skene and the young walrus comfortably asleep together forward; for four weeks of imprisonment had sufficed to make the new acquisition so tame and friendly with the dog that Skene quite appreciated his new companion, treating it as a kind of huge india-rubber cushion, over and about which he had a right to stretch himself wherever and whenever he pleased. But a word roused up the dog, who leaped off the walrus, waking it in the act; and seeing its master it, too, advanced, not like the dog in capers and bounds accompanied by barking, but in a curious shuffling fashion, with plenty of whines and whimpers suggestive of its satisfaction and demand for caresses. "Good old Skeny!" cried Steve. "Long walk to-morrow, old man, hunting and bear and all sorts." The dog uttered a cheery bark at every announcement as if he understood every word, and leaped up at his master, certainly comprehending that there was something on the way. "Hullo, Blub!" cried Steve, stooping to give the walrus some sounding slaps, which were evidently appreciated. "Rum old chap, ar'n't you? Why, you always feel as if one ought to sit on you, or roll over you, don't you?" For answer the curious-looking object made a barking kind of grunt, and thrust its curious, neckless head over the lad's shoe, peering up to him, and evidently enjoying the company of one who talked to and favoured it with plenty of slaps and pats, all of which appeared to be thoroughly appreciated, and missed as soon as the lad moved away, the animal shuffling after him in the most absurd way, and to the great delight of the crew, which joined in petting the uncouth beast in the intervals of being free from some busy task. All this while the stock of oil had rapidly augmented, and one portion of the hold had been set apart for the reception of the great solid tusks, which were carefully extracted from the walrus skulls by Johannes, who never seemed happier than when engaged in some task relating to the capture or storing of the produce of one or other of the arctic animals. The next morning the party bound for the search and hunt for fresh food started quite early, the boat landing them very near to the side of the great glacier, with its wonderful bluish tints in the chasms and hollows about its feet. At Steve's request Watty was one of the party, for several times lately he had noticed the longing eyes the lad had directed at them when they were bound on an expedition; and now at last, when he was to have a run on shore and see the shooting of the reindeer, his excitement seemed to bubble over, and he could hardly contain himself as he tramped on by the side of Andrew McByle. A brief glance was given to the grand glacier, and then the party bore off to the right along the valley, finding, to Steve's great delight, as they reached the warmer and more sheltered position, where the ground was protected from the sea breeze and from the icy currents which blew from the north, quite an abundance of flowers, though there was a perfect absence of trees. They were dwarfed and ordinary-looking plants, saxifrages and other alpine growths, and so insignificant, that in another part of the world they would have been looked upon as paltry weeds, but here they were rushed after by both the lads, Watty being down on his knees directly to pick a handful. "Leuk at her," said Andrew contemptuously. "She always thocht the callant had a bee in her bonnet. She's gane daft aboot the bit weeds." But Steve was quite as "daft"; and in the course of their searching for fresh blossoms they came in contact over a tuft which each had espied from a distance, and paused a yard apart, with eyes glistening from eagerness and hand outstretched, the other holding a spare rifle over the left shoulder. Neither spoke for a moment or two, and then Watty broke the silence and looked quite friendly at his young superior; while Steve waited, expecting to hear some unpleasant remark, or to see some annoying gesture, on the lad's part. "I dinna want them," said Watty at last. "She'll find plenty mair. Hey! but it does the hairt good to see the bonnie bit floores ance mair. Peck them and come alang, Meester Stevey, and we'll be finding bilberries oot yonder on ta brae." "There's plenty for both, Watty," said Steve; and, in the most friendly way brought together by the tiny blossoms, the lads gathered each a handful, Steve sticking his in his breast, and Watty taking off his flat, Celtic, worsted bonnet, laying the flowers carefully therein, and then replacing it upon his bear's-greasy, shock head. "She'll pit them in watter when she gets back," he said. "Hey! but it does her hairt good to rin amang the floores again." Their party was well on ahead, and they trudged after them together along the valley, with the mountains running steeply up on either side, in places up and away to where the dull green moss and tufty growths gave way to bare patches of stones, and still up and up to where the loose stones were succeeded by rock sheathed and netted with snow. Just above this was the eternal, glittering ice, dazzling in the soft glow of the sun, whose light looked cold and calm, and gave the wondrous landscape a saddened aspect; for, in spite of its beauty and the variety of tint of the mountain-side, Steve felt that there was a something mournful about the valley, though why he could not explain. It was singular, but every step impressed his more thoughtful companions on ahead that this was no haunt for human beings; and as they tramped on, following the windings of the valley, the impression grew stronger and stronger that theirs were the first, possibly might prove to be the last, human feet that had ever traversed this stony desert. "She dinna see nae heather," said Watty suddenly, "an' she dinna see nae bluebell; but it's verra bonnie oot here, Meester Steve. Will ta captain be gaen far awa?" "Oh yes, a long way yet, Watty. We've got to shoot some deer to take back." "Eh? Shoot the deer an' tak' back! But she'll be hungry sune, and when she's shot a teer she'll mak' a fire and roast her. For she's a fine, gude cook now, and wad like to stay ashore now and build a hoose and shoot and hunt. Wait a wee, and she'll mak' a bonnie fire." "What of?" said Steve, laughing. "We haven't shot our deer yet; and if we had, there's no wood here." "Thenk o' tat," said Watty, cocking his bonnet on one side to give his head a scratch. "Nae wud! She's nane sae fine a countrie as bonnie Scotland, then. Nae wud!" he continued, looking round. "But she'll find a forest over yonder?" "No, there are no trees here." "Then she'll mak' a fire o' peat. She'll find plenty o' turves doon alangside o' ta bilberries." "Yes, you may find turf, and perhaps coal; but we shall see." They had to hurry a little to overtake the party, and this was soon made easier from their halting about a mile farther inland, where the captain was gazing up the stony slope of the mountain to their left. Steve looked up, expecting to see some particular plant or perhaps bird; but he was soon undeceived by the doctor handing his rifle to Andrew and climbing up a little way to kick off some masses of something and throw them down. "What has he found, Captain Marsham?" said Steve; "gold?" "What is far more valuable to us, my lad--coal. Yes," he added, as he examined the specimen which he had picked up, "and good, soft, bituminous coal, too. Why, Steve, this is going to be a land of plenty for us. A coal vein cropping out of the cliff-side, ready for us to come with picks, sacks, and sledges to carry off as much as we like." "She's pit petter coal than tat into the galley fire," said Watty, who had followed the example of the others and picked up a piece to examine. "Leuks brown, Meester Stevey. Does she thenk it wud burn?" "We'll try as soon as we get a deer to roast, Watty." "Hey, leuk at tat!" cried the lad, as a shadow was cast upon the rock wall, and a huge owl floated by on its soft pinions, staring hard at the human visitors to its solitude with its large round eyes, and then proceeded to perch upon a ledge high above their heads, and strip and devour a speckled bird which it had in its claws. "Hey, look at tat!" cried Watty, whose excitement bubbled over at every fresh thing he saw. "She got ta white speckled grouse fra off the mountain-side. She's seen ta grouse like tat on Ben Cruachan." "Ptarmigan, Handscombe," said the captain, as the white and browny-grey plumage of the unfortunate bird came floating down from where the eagle-owl was preparing its meal. "Yes, ptarmigan, sure enough," said the doctor. "Come along; we must knock over a few of these if we don't find any deer. Shall I shoot the owl?" "No, let it rest; we can't eat it, and we are too busy to care for preserving specimens. Make a note, though, of our having seen these two birds to-day. I want to make out how wide the coal seam is, and whether it would be easy to work. Here, my lad, give some one else that gun, and climb up and tell me how wide that coal is. You can get up there." "She got oop and teukit an eagle's nest ance by Ballachulish," replied the boy; and readily enough he climbed from stone to stone, with the huge owl ceasing its preparation of its dinner and glaring down at him. "Their tameness is shocking to me," quoted the doctor, as he saw Watty climb and the owl watch him come nearer and nearer, till all at once the great white-and-grey-plumed bird dropped the ptarmigan, made a rapid silent stoop unseen by the lad, struck at his head with claws and wings, and sailed away again silently, leaving the bonnet with its flowers falling more quickly than Watty, who lost his hold, and came rolling, scrambling, and tumbling down, till, scratched, bruised, and breathless, he fell quite at his companions' feet. "Wha' did tat?" he shouted furiously, as he sprang up with his eyes flashing; and he gazed from Steve to the doctor and back, as their anxious look changed now to one of mirth on finding that the boy was not much hurt. "Did what?" cried Steve in suffocated tones. "Threw a big lump of turf and knockit off her bonnet." "Haud your whisht, laddie," growled Andrew. "Naebody threw a turf, for there isna turf to throw." "But ta turf hit her an ta lug, and knockit off her bonnet." "Haud your whisht, laddie; naebody threw a turf. It was the great grey geuse bird teuk her for a lamb. Hey! here she comes back." In effect the great owl came sailing up, stooped and picked up the ptarmigan it had dropped, and went off to a ledge of the mountain higher up. "She's spoiled a' the bonnie floores," muttered Watty, picking up his bonnet, and climbing up again to report that the coal seam was "sae wide," this measure being indicated by touching the face of the rock in two places about a foot apart; and he was about to descend when he caught sight of something away over a ridge, and pointed. "She can see the ret-teer," he whispered. "Whisht!" Watty crept down cautiously, his actions showing that before now he must have been out in the deer forests at home; for as soon as he reached the bottom of the cliff he ran to Skene, who had been watching the owl and its prey with a curiously puzzled look as if he did not know it as a bird at home, and, dropping on one knee, he threw his left arm over the dog's neck and held his muzzle so that he should not bark. _ |
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