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CHAPTER XIX
A WONDERFUL EXHIBITION

Unto no one, excepting him who journeys far into the Northland, is given it to view such an amazing picture as was now spread out before the enraptured gaze of Rob Carrol and Fred Warburton. In Northern Siberia, the Scandinavian Peninsula, the upper portion of the American Continent, and the Arctic Sea, the traveler learns in all its wonderful fullness of glory the meaning of the Aurora Borealis or Northern Lights.

The boys had had partial glimpses of the scene on their voyage through the Greenland Sea, and there were flickerings of light which caught their eye on the trip from the iceberg to the mainland, and the short walk to Docak's hut, but it was during their short stay in the rude dwelling that the mysterious scene-shifters of the skies unfolded their magnificent panorama in all its overwhelming grandeur.

Radiating from a huge nucleus, which seemed to be the North Pole itself, shot the streamers of light, so vast in extent that their extremities struck the zenith, withdrawing with lightning-like quickness, and succeeded by others with the same celerity and displaying all the vivid hues of the rainbow.

At times these dartings resembled immense spears, and then they changed to bands of light, turning again into ribbons which shivered and hovered in the sky, with bewildering variation, turning and doubling upon themselves, spreading apart like an immense fan, and then trembling on the very verge of the horizon, as if about to vanish in the darkness of night.

At the moment the spectators held their breath, fearing that the celestial display was ended; the streamers, spears, bands of violet, indigo, blue, orange, red, green, and yellow, with the innumerable shades, combinations, and mingling of colors, shot out and spread over the sky like the myriad rays of the setting sun.

This continued for several minutes, marked by irregular degrees of intensity, so impressive in its splendor that neither lad spoke, for he could make no comment upon the exhibition, the like of which is seen nowhere else in nature.

But once both gave a sigh of amazed delight when a ribbon, combining several vivid colors, quivered, danced, and streamed far beyond the zenith, with a wary appearance that suggested that some giant, standing upon the extreme northern point of the earth, had suddenly unrolled this marvelous ribbon and was waving it in the eyes of an awestruck world.

One of the most striking features of those mysterious electrical phenomena known as the Northern Lights is the absolute silence which accompanies them. The genius of man can never approach in the smallest degree the beauties of the picture without some noise, but here nature performs her most wonderful feat in utter stillness. The panorama may unfold, roll together, spread apart again with dazzling brilliancy and suddenness, but the strained ear catches no sound, unless dissociated altogether from the phenomenon itself, such as the soft sighing of the Arctic wind over the wastes of snow, or through the grove of solemn pines.

There were moments when the effulgence spread over the earth, like the rays of the midnight sun, and the lads, standing in front of the primitive dwelling of the Esquimau, resembled a couple of figures stamped in ink in the radiant field.

For nearly an hour the rapt spectators stood near the entrance to the native dwelling, insensible to the extreme cold, and too profoundly impressed to speak or stir; but the heavens had given too great a wealth of splendor, brilliancy, color, and celestial scene-shifting to continue it long. The subtle exchange of electrical conditions must have reached something like an equipoise, and the overwhelming beauty and grandeur exhausted itself.

The ribbons and streamers that had been darting to and beyond the zenith, shortened their lightning excursions into space, leaping forth at longer intervals and to a decreasing distance, until they ceased altogether, displaying a few flickerings in the horizon, as though eager to bound forth again, but restrained by a superior hand with the command, "Enough for this time."

Fred drew a deep sigh.

"I never dreamed that anywhere in the world one could see such a sight as that."

"It is worth a voyage from home a hundred times over, and I don't regret our stay on the iceberg, for we would have been denied it otherwise."

"If there are any people living near the North Pole, it must be like dwelling in another world. I don't see how they stand it."

"I believe that the Northern Lights have their origin between here and the Pole," said Fred; "though I am not sure of that."

"The magnetic pole, which must be the source of the display, is south of the earth's pole, and I suppose that's the reason for the belief you mention. But it is enough to fill one with awe, when he gazes on the scene and reflects that the world is one great reservoir of electricity, which, if left free for a moment by its Author, would shiver the globe into nothingness, and leave only an empty void where the earth swung before."

"I pity the man who says, 'There is no God,' or who can look unmoved to the very depths of his soul by such displays of infinite power."

"There are no such persons," exclaimed Rob, impatiently; "they may repeat the words, because they think it brave and smart before their companions, but they don't believe themselves. It is impossible."

"Why didn't we think to tell Jack and Docak, that they might have enjoyed the scene with us?"

"The native Esquimaux see it too often to care about it. It is hard to understand how any one can become accustomed to it, but we know it is so. As for Jack, he must have looked upon it many times before, when he was in this latitude. Gracious! but it has become cold," added Rob, with a shiver.

"It isn't any colder than it has been all the evening, but we forgot about it while the exhibition was going on."

The boys turned about, and, ducking their heads, made their way along the long entry, quickly debouching into the warmth and glow of the living room, where Docak and the sailor, having laid away their pipes, were talking like a couple of old friends who had not seen each other for years and were exchanging experiences. Crestana had finished her work in the kitchen and joined them. She was sitting on the shorter bench, and, like a thrifty housewife, was engaged in repairing some of her husband's bulky garments, with big needles and coarse thread.

She looked up with her pleasant smile, as the boys entered, their bodies shivering and their teeth chattering from the extreme cold.

"You chaps must have found it mighty pleasant out-doors," remarked the sailor.

"Ah! Jack, if you had been with us, you would have seen a sight worth a journey around the world."

"What was it? Another polar bear, or two of them?"

"The Northern Lights, and O – "

"The Northern Lights," interrupted their friend, with a sniff of disgust; "is that all?"

The boys looked at him, too horrified to speak.

"I'll own that they are rather purty, and the first two or three times a chap looks onto 'em he is apt to hold his breath, and rub his eyes, but, when you've seed 'em as often as me, it'll get to be an old story. Besides Docak and me had more important bus'ness to talk about."

"What was that?"

"This hunting trip; it's all fixed."

"When do we start?"

"To-morrow morning. There's no saying how long we'll be gone, and I've told him that it doesn't make any difference to us, so we get back some time this year."

"Can we travel without snow-shoes?"

"Luckily we can, for Docak has only two pair. This fog and a little rain we've had have formed a crust on the snow hard enough to bear a reindeer, so that we can travel over it as easy as if it were solid ice. The only thing to be feared is another deep fall of snow afore we can get back. That would make hard traveling, but then a hunter must take some risk and who cares? We may see sights and meet fun that will last us a lifetime."

CHAPTER XX
THE HERD OF MUSK OXEN

One of the most interesting animals found in the frozen regions of the North is the musk ox, his favorite haunt being on the mainland of the Continent in the neighborhood of the Arctic circle, though he is occasionally met in Greenland.

The fact that the animal has no muzzle has led some naturalists to separate him from the ox species and give him the name of Ovibos. He is smaller in size than his domestic brother, very low on his legs, and covered with a wealth of wool and dark brown hair, which, during the cold weather, almost touches the ground. A whitish spot on the back is called the saddle, though it is not to be supposed that it is ever intended for that purpose.

One of the most striking features of the musk ox is his horns, which sometimes weigh fifty or sixty pounds. They are flattened at the base, the flat sides turned outward, and form a sort of shield or protection for the face.

At certain seasons he is one of the most odoriferous animals in creation. During the spring the musky odor is so strong that it can be detected on the first knife thrust into his body. At other seasons it is hardly perceptible, and the eating is excellent.

Although his legs are so short he can travel swiftly, and shows a facility in climbing mountains that no one would suspect on looking at the animal the first time. It suggests the chamois in this respect. He feeds on lichens during a part of the year, and on grass and moss during the rest.

Some distance back of the native Esquimau's hut, the land inclined upward, becoming quite rough and mountainous not far from the coast.

It was among these wild hilly regions that a herd of musk oxen, numbering eleven, were browsing one afternoon, with no thought of disturbance from man or beast. Perhaps the last should be excepted, for the oxen are accustomed to herd together for the purpose of mutual protection against the ravening wolves who would make short work of one or two of them, when detached from the main herd. But it is not to be supposed that the thought of bipedal foes entered their thick skulls, for the Esquimau is not a hunter as a rule, and confines his operations to fishing in the waters near his home.

The herd referred to had gradually worked their way upward among the mountains, until they reached a plateau, several acres in extent. There a peculiar swirling gale had, at some time or other, swept most of the space quite clear of snow, and left bare the stubby grass and moss, which, at certain seasons, formed the only sustenance of the animals.

It was a lucky find for the oxen, for in the far North, with its ice and snow, it is an eternal battle between the wild animals and starvation, the victory not infrequently being with the latter. It was rare that the oxen found food so plentiful, and they were certain to remain there, if permitted, until hardly a spear was left for those who might come after them.

The largest ox of the party was grazing along the upper edge of the plateau, some rods removed from the others. He had struck a spot where the grass and moss were more abundant, and he was putting in his best work.

Suddenly he caught a suspicious sound. Throwing up his head, with the food dripping from the motionless jaws, he stared in the direction whence it came, possibly with the fear of wolves.

Instead of seeing one of the latter he descried an object fully as terrifying in the shape of a young man, clad in thick clothing from head to foot, and with a rifle in his hands. The name of this young man was Fred Warburton, and he had reached this advantageous spot after long and careful climbing from the plain below. He was studying the creatures closely, now that he had succeeded in gaining a nearer view, for, on the way thither, Docak had told him much concerning them, and they had become objects of great interest.

Fred was alone, and had spent several minutes in surveying the brutes before he coughed with the purpose of attracting attention for a few seconds. Then, slipping his mitten from his right hand, the lad brought his rifle to his shoulder and sighted at the animal.

He had forgotten to inquire at what part to aim, but it seemed to him that the head was the most vulnerable, and he directed his weapon at a point midway between the eyes and near the centre of the forehead.

At the very instant of pressing the trigger the ox slightly lowered his head, and, instead of boring its way through the skull, the bullet impinged against the horny mass above, and glanced off without causing injury.

Fred was startled when he observed the failure, for his friends were too far away to give him support, and it was necessary to place another cartridge in the chamber of his weapon before it could be used. He proceeded to do so, without stirring a foot, and with a coolness which no veteran hunter ever excelled.

But if Fred stood still the musk ox was very far from doing so.

One glance only at the youth was enough, when, with a snort, he whirled about, galloped a few paces, and then wheeled with marked quickness, and faced the young hunter again. While engaged in this performance his snortings drew the attention of his companions, who, throwing up their heads, galloped to him, and the whole eleven speedily stood side by side, facing the point whence the attack had come.

They were of formidable appearance, indeed, for, with lowered heads, they pawed up the earth and began cautiously advancing upon the boy, who had his cartridge in place and was ready for another shot. But instead of one musk ox he was confronted by eleven!

"My gracious!" he said to himself; "this is a larger contract than I thought of. If they will only come at me one at a time I wouldn't mind. I wonder where the other folks are?"

He glanced right and left, but nothing was to be seen of Rob or Jack or Docak. It looked as if a line of retreat should be provided, and he ventured a glance to the rear.

He saw a mass of rocks within a hundred yards, against which a good deal of snow had been driven, and he concluded that that was the only available refuge, with no certainty that it would prove a refuge at all.

"Being as I shall have to fetch up there to save myself, and being that those beasts can travel faster than I, it wouldn't be a bad idea to begin edging that way now."

He would have been glad to whirl about and dash off, reserving his shot until he reached the rocks, but for his belief that such an attempt would be fatal to himself. Nothing encourages man or animal so much as the sight of a flying foe, and he was sure that he would instantly have the whole herd at his heels, and they would overhaul him too before he could attain his shelter.

It was a test of his nerves, indeed. There were eleven musk oxen, heads lowered, eyes staring, with low, muttering bellows, pawing and flinging the dirt behind them, while they continued advancing upon the motionless lad, who, having but one shot immediately at command, sought to decide where it could be sent so as to do the most good.

The fellow at which he fired was the largest of the herd, and it was plain to see that he was commander-in-chief. Upon receiving the shot on his horns he had summoned his followers about him, and no doubt told them of the outrage and whispered in their ears the single word "Vengeance."

It naturally struck Fred that the single shot should be directed at the leader, for possibly, if he fell, the others would be thrown into a panic and scatter. At any rate, it was the only hope, and, without waiting a tenth part of the time it has taken us to tell it, he brought his rifle to a level and aimed at the big fellow.

The distance was so short that there was no excuse for repeating his blunder, or, rather, accident. He sighted the best he knew how, and, while the fellow was still pawing and advancing, let fly, hitting him fairly between the eyes.

The lad paused just long enough to learn that his shot was effective, when he whirled on his heel, without waiting for more, and ran as he never ran before.

CHAPTER XXI
CLOSE QUARTERS

At this moment, when it would be thought that the incident was at its most thrilling crisis, it assumed a ludicrous phase, at which any spectator must have laughed heartily.

Fred, as I have said, made for the protecting rocks, with all the energy of which he was capable. On the way thither he dropped one mitten, then his gun flew from his grasp, and a chill passed through his frame, at the consciousness that he had lost his only means of defense; but he dared not check himself long enough to pick it up, for in fancy he heard the whole ten thundering after him and almost upon his heels.

The distance to travel was short, but it seemed twice its real extent, and he feared he would never reach it. He was running for life, however, and he got over the ground faster than would be supposed. Panting and half-exhausted, he arrived at last, and darted breathlessly behind the rugged mass of boulders.

His heart almost gave way when he found it what he feared; a simple pile of stones, partly covered with snow, but presenting nothing that could be used for protection. The only portion was the top, but that was too high for him to climb the perpendicular sides.

It was at this moment he cast a terrified glance behind him, and uttered the single exclamation:

"Well, if that doesn't beat all creation!"

What did he see?

The whole ten musk oxen scampering in the opposite direction, apparently in as great a panic as himself.

The truth of it is the musk ox is one of the most cowardly animals in existence. All the pawing of dirt, the bellowing, and threatening advance upon an enemy is simply "bluff." At the first real danger he takes himself off like the veritable booby that he is.

As soon as Fred could recover his wind he broke into laughter at the thought of his causeless scare. He might as well have stood his ground and fired into them at his leisure.

"I'm glad Rob didn't see me," he reflected as he came from behind the rock and set out to regain his lost weapon and mitten; "he would have had it on me bad – "

A shiver ran through him, for he surely heard something like a chuckle that had a familiar sound.

He looked around, but could discover no cause for it.

"No; it wouldn't have done for him or Jack to have had a glimpse of me running away from the oxen that were going just as hard from me – "

"Hello, Fred, where's your gun?"

It was Rob Carrol and no one else, who stepped into sight from the other side of the rocks and came toward him, shaking so much with mirth that he could hardly walk.

"What's the matter with you?" demanded Fred, savagely; "you seem to find cause for laughter where no one else can."

"O Fred! if you only could have seen yourself tearing for the rocks, your gun flying one way, your mitten another, your eyes bulging out, and you too scared to look behind at the animals that were going still faster right from you, why you would have tumbled down and called it the funniest sight in the world."

"If I had seen you with your life in danger I wouldn't have stopped to laugh, but would have gone to your help."

"So would I have gone to yours, but the trouble was your neck wasn't in danger, though I guess you thought it was."

"Why didn't you fire into the herd?"

"What for? They were too far off to take the chances of bringing them down, and you had killed the leader."

"Why, then, didn't you yell to me to stop my running?"

"I tried to, but couldn't for laughing; then, too, Fred, it wasn't long before you found it out yourself. If, when we get home, you want to enter the races as a sprinter, I will back you against the field. I tell you, old fellow, you surpassed yourself."

By this time the younger lad had rallied, and saw that his exhibition of ill-temper only made him ridiculous. He turned toward his companion with a smile, and asked, in his quaint way:

"What'll you take, Rob, not to mention this to Jack or any of the rest of our friends?"

"I'll try not to do so, but, if it should happen to drop from me some time, don't get mad and tear your hair."

"Never mind," said Fred, significantly; "this hunt isn't finished yet, and I may get a chance to turn the laugh on you."

"If you do, then I'll make the bargain."

"Perhaps you will, but that will be as I feel about it. But, I say, did you ever know of any such cowardly animals as the musk ox? If they had gone for me, where would I have been?"

"I doubt whether they could have caught you, but they are stupid cowards, who don't know their own strength."

"I wonder whether they always act this way."

"Most of the time, but not always. I heard Docak telling Jack how he once put two bullets into a bull, which kept on for him like a steam engine. He flung himself behind a lot of rocks, just as you did, when the beast was right upon him. He struck the stones with such force that he shattered his horns and was thrown back on the ground like a ball. Before he could rise his wounds overcame him, and he gave it up, but it was a narrow escape for the Esquimau."

"It might have been the same with me," added Fred, who could not recall, without a shudder, those few seconds when he faced the leader with his herd ranged alongside of him; "but all's well that ends well. Where are Jack and Docak?"

As if in answer to the question the reports of the guns broke upon their ears at that moment, and they saw the two hunters standing on the lower edge of the plateau, firing into the terrified animals that were almost upon them. Instead of turning to run, as Fred had done, immediately after firing, they quietly held their places and began coolly reloading their pieces.

There was good ground for their self-confidence. Their shots were so well aimed that two of the oxen tumbled to the ground, while the others, whirling again, came thundering in the direction of the rocks, near which the lads were watching them.

"That sight is enough to scare any one," remarked Fred.

"If you want to turn and run again," said Rob, "I'll pick up your gun and both of your mittens, if you drop them."

"Don't fret yourself; if I can beat you when you had that polar bear at your heels no beast could overtake me."

"The difference between that and this was that the brute was at my heels, while your pursuers were running the other way. However, we'll drop the matter, old fellow, since I have had all the fun I want out of it. It may be upon me next time."

"I hope it will, and, if so, I won't forget it; but, Rob, this begins to look serious."

Although the youths were in plain view, the musk oxen continued their flight straight toward them. Unless they changed very quickly or the lads got out of the way a collision was certain.

"You may stay here if you think it smart," said Fred, a second later, "but I don't."

Despite the exhibition he had made of himself a few minutes before he moved briskly toward the rocks, behind which he whisked like one who had no time to waste.

To show him how causeless was his alarm, Rob raised his gun, and, taking a quick aim at the foremost, let fly.

"That'll settle them!" he called out; "see how quickly they will turn tail."

But they did not adopt this course as promptly as Rob expected. He had struck one of them, but without inflicting much hurt. There is a latent courage in every beast, which, under certain stress, can be aroused to activity, and this shot had done it.

Rob stood his ground for an instant or two. Then he awoke to the fact that his shot was not going to turn a single one of the eight musk oxen from his course. They thundered toward him like so many furies, and were almost upon him before he realized that he had already waited too long.