Kitabı oku: «First at the North Pole: or, Two Boys in the Arctic Circle», sayfa 7

CHAPTER XIII – BARWELL DAWSON REACHES A DECISION

The trip to Portland proved full of keen interest to both boys, who had spent most of their lives in the backwoods. Barwell Dawson procured rooms for all at a hotel not far from Monument Square, and then he allowed the lads to do all the sightseeing they pleased. They took several trolley trips, and visited many points of interest, not forgetting the big stores, which were as much of a revelation as anything to them.

The hunter and explorer set to work without delay to find out if possible what had become of the whaler, Betsey Andrews. At first he could learn little, but one day came a letter from New Bedford, from a maritime agency, stating that the whaler had not been heard of since stopping at Disko Island, off the coast of Greenland, two years before. It was supposed that she had either been hit by an iceberg, or been sunk in a storm, with all on board. Once a small boat belonging to the whaler had been found washed up on the coast of Greenland, but it had contained no persons, dead or alive.

This news was very disheartening to Chet, and for several days he was not himself at all, and Andy could do little to cheer him up. But it was not as bad as if the youth had not expected something of this sort before, and his hopes soon came back to him.

“I’ll not believe father is dead until I see the proofs,” he told his chum. “He may have been cast away on the coast of Greenland, and been unable to find a ship to bring him back home.”

“Let us hope that is true,” answered Andy. “And let us hope that he gets back soon.” But though Andy spoke thus, he had small expectations of ever seeing Mr. Greene alive.

“I expect Professor Jeffer down tomorrow,” said Barwell Dawson, one morning after reading his mail. “As soon as he comes we’ll run up the coast to where the Ice King is being fitted out.”

The weather had cleared off warm, and the snow was fast vanishing. The professor arrived on time, and was full of enthusiasm concerning the proposed trip to the north.

“I wish we were sure of going,” said Andy, to him, and then told of what had been said to Mr. Dawson.

“I like you lads very much,” returned the old scientist. “I hope Mr. Dawson sees fit to take you along.”

“Perhaps you can put in a good word for us,” suggested Chet.

“I’ll do it,” was the prompt answer.

Professor Jeffer was as good as his word, and that evening he and Barwell Dawson had a long talk concerning the boys. The hunter and explorer could not help but smile at Upham Jeffer’s enthusiasm.

“Well, if you are on their side too, I’ll surely have to take them,” he said at length. “But it is a risky thing to do – they are not men, remember.”

“They will stand the trip as well as though they were men,” was the professor’s answer. “They are in the best of health, and full of vigor. Besides, it is well to have the enthusiasm of youth with us. It may help to cheer up many a lonely hour.”

“I like the idea of their being without close family connections, Professor. I hate to take a man away from those near and dear to him.”

“True, sir, true – especially when it is not actually necessary. Yes, I’d take the boys by all means. I do not think you’ll regret it. Of course, though, each will have to have a complete outfit.”

“You can trust me to get the best there is.”

When Andy and Chet heard the good news they could scarcely contain themselves. Andy danced a jig right in the hotel room, while both lads had to shake Barwell Dawson by the hand several times, and then they shook hands with Professor Jeffer, too.

“It makes me feel just as if we were one big family,” cried Andy, enthusiastically. “Oh, Chet, just to think of it! We’ll hunt musk oxen, and polar bears, and seals, and walruses! And go clear to the Pole, too!”

“And travel on dog sledges,” put in Chet. “Say, I’m ready to go this minute!”

“So am I! Mr. Dawson, you can’t start any too soon for us.”

“Well, boys, don’t be too enthusiastic. Remember, this is going to be no child’s play – trying to get to the North Pole. And we won’t try to reach that point at all unless, when we get into the Arctic regions, we find the conditions more or less favorable. You must remember that many brave and vigorous men have tried to reach the Pole and have failed. There are immense fields of ice and snow to cross, and ‘leads’ or rivers of icy water. And if you lose your supplies, there remains nothing to do but to starve.”

Nevertheless, even though he spoke thus, Barwell Dawson was secretly as hopeful as were the boys. Could he have seen what was before him, his enthusiasm might have quickly died within him.

Now that it had been settled that they could go, the two boys were eager to see the vessel which was to be their home during the coming summer and winter. The Ice King was being fitted out at the seaport town of Rathley, and they took the train for the place, arriving there about noon. The vessel was tied up at the dock, and the lads and Professor Jeffer were invited by Mr. Dawson to come on board.

“I’ll introduce you to Captain Williamson,” said the hunter. “He is in charge of the repairs that are being made. He is a fine man, and I know you will like him.”

The captain proved to be a bluff and hearty old salt, who had at one time commanded a whaler. He shook hands with a grip that made Andy and Chet wince, and looked them over with a twinkle in his eye.

“So you are going to try to hunt polar bears and such, eh?” he said. “Well, you look out that the bears don’t eat you up,” and he laughed broadly.

“We’ll try to keep out of the way,” answered Chet, modestly.

“And what are you going to do when the thermometer drops to fifty below zero?”

“Work around and keep warm,” answered Andy, with a grin, and this made the captain laugh again.

“Guess you’ll do,” he said. “Anyway, we’ll try you.”

The Ice King was a two-masted steamer that had been built for use in the icy seas of the north. She was small, broad of beam, and shallow, with an outer “jacket” of stout oak planks, and a prow and stern of steel. Inside, all the bracings were extra heavy, and the railings of the deck were of the hardest kind of timber. She carried an engine of great power, and steam could be gotten up both with coal and with oil.

“You see, it will not do to take too large a ship,” explained Barwell Dawson. “A small vessel can often get through where a big one would get stuck. The Ice King is built shallow, so that instead of being crushed in the floating ice, she will slide up on it, or over it. The sides are two feet thick, and they ought to resist a tremendous pressure. We have to have great engine power, and a steel prow, for sometimes we’ll have to simply smash our way through.”

The entire lower portion of the ship was to be given over to the storage of provisions and coal, and coal was also to be stored, at the start, on deck. The quarters for the crew were forward, in a forecastle of the usual order. At the stern was a fair-sized cabin, half above and half below the deck, with quarters for Barwell Dawson, the captain, and the others. The boys were conducted to a stateroom not over six feet by seven. It had an upper and a lower berth on one side, and a tiny washstand and some clothing hooks on the other.

“We’ll all have close quarters,” said Barwell Dawson. “My own room is but two feet larger than this.”

“It’s large enough,” said Andy. He turned to his chum. “We’ll be as snug as a bug in a rug in here, won’t we?”

“Suits me right down to the ground,” returned Chet. “Not much room for clothing, but as we haven’t much, that’s all right.”

Professor Jeffer was to share his stateroom with another man, who had not yet arrived. He asked for a cabinet, in which he might store his scientific instruments, and Mr. Dawson said he would attend to the matter.

“Next week I shall commence the purchase of all supplies,” said the man who headed the expedition. “Until that time there will be little for any of you to do, and you can go where you please.”

“I’m going back home – to have another look for those missing papers,” said Andy. “Besides, I want to bring away the rest of my things, and nail up the cabin.”

“And I’ll go along,” said Chet. “I want to get my things, too. About the cabin, I don’t care much what becomes of it, for it has seen its best days.”

The two boys spent three days in the vicinity of Pine Run. During that time both went out twice to look for the documents Andy had lost, but without success.

“They are gone, and I’ll have to make the best of it,” said Andy, with a deep sigh.

The two boys packed up what few things they wished to take along, and then each cabin was nailed up tightly. Both wondered if they would ever see the places again.

“Maybe we’ll never come back from the far north,” said Chet.

“Are you afraid, Chet?” demanded Andy, quickly.

“Not a bit of it. Just the same, we may never see Maine again. What happened to my father may happen to us.”

Professor Jeffer had come back also, to ship his case of scientific instruments, and also another case of books. The professor did not want much in the way of clothing, but it would have been a real hardship had he been deprived of his other belongings.

“The success of this trip will depend upon accurate scientific observations,” said he to the boys, when on the return to Rathley. “It is all well enough to hunt, and even to reach the North Pole, but of what use is it if we cannot return with full data of what we have observed?”

“You are right, Professor,” answered Andy. “But your instruments are beyond me.”

“I will teach you how to use some of them, after we are on board ship. There will be many days when you boys will have little to do, and it will be an excellent opportunity to improve your minds.”

“Well, I wouldn’t mind a little more education,” said Chet, bluntly.

“I’ll be pleased to teach you, my boy. I was once a schoolmaster – although that was years ago.”

“Professor, do you really think we’ll reach the Pole?” asked Andy, earnestly.

“I do not think; I hope. Many have tried and failed, but I believe the Pole will be gained some day, and we’ll have an excellent chance of success. Mr. Dawson is a wonderful man – he seems more wonderful every time I talk to him. He is fitting up his ship with the greatest possible care and forethought, and has made a deep study of polar conditions. Besides, he has had practical experience on the fields of ice and snow, and knows just what to expect in the way of hardships.”

The run to Rathley was made in less than two hours. It had been decided that the party should put up at a hotel for a few days, until some painting on board the Ice King was finished. Then they were to go aboard and make themselves at home as best they could until the day set for the departure.

They reached the hotel in the evening, and that night all slept soundly. In the morning, after breakfast, Chet suggested they walk down to the steamer and see how the painting was progressing.

“Hark!” cried Andy, when they were within two blocks of the wharf. “What is that man crying?”

“Fire! fire! fire!” yelled the individual in question, as he came rushing up the street.

“Where is it?” asked Andy and Chet in a breath.

“Down at the dock! A steamer is on fire!”

“A steamer!” exclaimed Professor Jeffer. “Can it be the Ice King?”

“Oh, I hope not!” burst out Andy, and then he set off on a run, with Chet by his side, and the professor following more slowly.

CHAPTER XIV – THE FIRE ON THE STEAMER

“She is doomed! There goes our chance to reach the North Pole!”

Such were the words that escaped from Chet’s lips, as he and Andy came out on the dock where the Ice King was tied up.

Before them lay the two-masted steamer, with a thick volume of smoke rolling up from her main hatchway. The fire alarm was sounding, and men and boys were running to the scene of action.

“What a catastrophe!” The words came from Professor Jeffer. He was almost out of breath from running. “I hope they can save her!”

“Wonder what is burning?” queried Andy. He, too, felt his heart sink within him.

“Can of benzine exploded,” answered a man standing near. “The painters had it, and one of ’em dropped a lighted match on the can.”

“He ought to be blown up with it,” fumed Chet. “Who ever heard of such carelessness!”

There was the tooting of a whistle, and a fire engine came dashing down the street, followed by a hose cart and a hook and ladder company. In the meantime, Captain Williamson had sounded the alarm on the ship, and set some men to work at a hand pump, for the engineer had no steam in the boilers.

“Can we do anything, Captain?” asked Andy, as he ran up the gangplank.

“I don’t know,” was the short answer. “Might help at the pump, or help carry buckets of water. If we had the engine going we’d soon get a good stream on that blaze, but we didn’t look for anything like this.”

Andy and Chet tried to get to the pump, but found that already manned. Then they got buckets and ropes, and commenced to haul up water over the side, and a number of other boys and men did likewise. Some sailors took the full buckets and threw the water down the hatchway, where they thought it would do the most good. Then the fire engine on the dock got into action, and a steady stream was directed down into the interior of the steamer.

But the conflagration had gained considerable headway, and some cans of paints and oils added ready fuel to the blaze. The smoke grew thicker and thicker, and presently a tongue of flame shot skyward.

“She’s doomed sure!” groaned Chet. “Oh, was there ever such luck!”

“The trouble is that the water doesn’t do much good on the paint and oil,” exclaimed Professor Jeffer. “Sand or dirt would be better.”

“Here comes a chemical engine!” cried Andy. “Maybe that will do some good.”

“It will do more good than throwing water,” said the old scientist.

The chemical engine got into action without delay, and as the chemicals were forced down the hatchway the smoke became even thicker than before. But the tongues of flame died down, which the boys took for a good sign.

Barwell Dawson was not on hand, he having gone to Boston on business.

“If the vessel isn’t saved, it will be an awful blow to him,” was Andy’s comment.

The boys continued to work, and so did the sailors and the firemen. Thus an anxious quarter of an hour passed. Then the chief of the fire department happened to pass Chet.

“Will the vessel be saved?” asked the lad.

“Sure thing!” cried the old fire-fighter. “But it’s a blaze hard to get at. If a man tried to go down there, he’d be smothered in a minute.”

Nevertheless, some of the hook and ladder men went into the engine room, and there chopped a hole through a bulkhead into the hold. Then more chemicals were used, and more water, and soon it was announced that the fire was under control. A little later the smoke cleared away, and the firemen went below, to put out any stray sparks.

It was found that the total damage was confined to that portion of the hold where the painters had stored their paints and oils. Here the woodwork was much charred, and some beams and braces were burnt through. But Captain Williamson estimated that two hundred dollars would make everything as good as ever.

“And that I’m going to get out of those painters,” he went on, doggedly. “If they don’t pay up, I’ll have ’em arrested for gross carelessness.” It may be said here that in the end the painters had to pay for the repairs, although they did so unwillingly.

A telegram was sent to Mr. Dawson, and he came from Boston on the first train. He was much disturbed, and roundly berated the painter who had caused the conflagration. The man had been smoking, and the hunter gave orders that in the future they were to smoke on deck only, and use no matches whatever while below.

The repairs made necessary by the fire were made within ten days, and then the task of getting the Ice King ready for her long trip to the Arctic regions went forward as rapidly as ever. Mr. Dawson was a busy man, for he superintended the buying of everything, from fur clothing to pemmican.

“Pemmican is the great thing in the Arctic regions,” he explained one day, when Andy asked about the food. “It is nothing but the round of beef, cut into strips and dried, and then mixed with beef tallow and currants. It will keep for a long time, and is highly nutritious.”

“Is it appetizing?” asked Andy, with a grin.

“It is when you are good and hungry, Andy. Besides, it is comparatively light, and easily carried. I don’t know what explorers would do without it. Of course, as long as we can get fresh meat, we’ll eat that. But we’ll have to fall back on pemmican more or less. You’ll find it more appetizing than seal blubber, such as the Esquimaux eat.”

The hunter purchased for the lads some silk underwear that was extra warm, and some stout boots, and outer garments of wool and of fur, and also some oilskins for wet weather. Then he took them to a gun shop in Portland and fitted them out with pistols, repeating rifles, and stout hunting knives. He also purchased for them water-tight match safes, and colored goggles of the automobile variety – the latter to ward off headache and snow-blindness.

“You need not wear the goggles all the time up north,” he explained. “But as soon as your eyes hurt the least bit, put them on.”

“You are very kind to get us all these things,” said Chet. The new repeating rifle made his eyes sparkle with pleasure.

“Indeed you are kind!” cried Andy. “We didn’t expect half so much.”

“I want you to go away completely equipped,” answered Barwell Dawson. “Half of the failures of exploring expeditions is due to the lack of proper equipment. It’s like going hunting with a gun that won’t shoot straight. Sometimes you hit your game, but more times you don’t.”

The hunter and explorer also went over the scientific instruments with Professor Jeffer, to see that nothing should be lacking to take all manner of observations and measurements. Some linen notebooks were also provided, which could not be torn easily, and likewise fountain pens, and ink made of liquids that would not readily freeze. Mr. Dawson also procured a number of cameras for taking pictures, and films that would not be affected by the intense cold.

“You’ve got to think about the cold every time you buy anything,” observed Andy. “Wonder what about a jack-knife? I was going to buy a new one, and I don’t want to ask Mr. Dawson about it – he has bought enough already.”

“I guess you can get any kind you want,” answered his chum. “But don’t use it when it’s too cold, or the steel will stick to your skin.”

“Oh, I know that. I once put my tongue on some cold iron, and I had a terrible time getting it off again.”

The boys were in Portland, and set off to buy some trifles, having still a few dollars of their own. Andy purchased the knife at a hardware store, and they were just coming from the place when Chet caught him by the arm.

“What is it, Chet?”

“Look at the man across the way! It is your Uncle Si!”

“Uncle Si!” cried Andy. “So it is! And he has seen me!”

Andy’s first impulse was to run, but he did nothing of the sort. He stood his ground, and gazed at his uncle coldly as the latter shuffled up. Josiah Graham looked anything but tidy and prosperous, and Andy rightly imagined that his relative had been going through some hard times.

“Humph! So here you be!” were Josiah Graham’s first words. “I was a-wonderin’ what had become of yer.”

“What are you doing here, Uncle Si?” asked Andy, as calmly as possible.

“Me? Wot’s thet to you, I’d like to know?”

“Oh, you don’t have to tell me if you don’t want to.”

“I’m a-lookin’ fer work. Be you workin’ now?”

“Not just at present.”

“How did you git here?”

“Came on the train.”

“Humph! Needn’t be so pert! Maybe you had an offer o’ work here?”

“No.”

“We haven’t got to look for a job,” said Chet. “We’ve got something better to look forward to.”

“Better, eh? Wot is it?” And Josiah Graham’s small eyes gazed shrewdly at the youths.

“Never mind what it is,” broke in Andy, hastily, with a warning look at his chum.

“Ah, I know!” cried the man, with a leer. “You came down to sell thet land claim! Goin’ to do it without my knowledge an’ consent!”

“No, I didn’t come for that.”

“You can’t tell me, Andy Graham! I know better, I do!” the old man shrilled. “But you remember I’m your guardeen, an’ you can’t sell nuthin’ without me!”

“You are not my guardian, Uncle Si. You went away of your own free will, and now I want you to let me alone.”

“Did you sell them papers yet?”

“No.”

“Then you better give ’em to me. You was a big fool to run away as you did. I was a-goin’ to make a good bargain fer yer.”

“Uncle Si, if you had sold those papers to that Mr. A. Q. Hopton, I could have had you arrested,” said Andy, quietly but firmly.

At these words the face of the shiftless man changed color, and his jaw dropped.

“Me? Arrested?” he stammered.

“Yes, arrested. I have had advice on the subject. You had no right to do a thing without the consent of the court.”

“Humph! so you have been to a lawyer, eh? Pretty way to do – not to trust your uncle, who allers did so well by yer. Has thet lawyer got them papers now?”

“I won’t tell you a word about the papers.”

“Humph! You ain’t got no right to run away like this.”

“I am not running away. I have a right to go where I please – and do as I please.”

“Who told you thet?”

“Never mind who told me.”

“You’re a-gettin’ too high-toned fer your boots, Andy Graham! How much money have you got?”

“That is my business.”

“Ain’t you a-goin’ to tell me?”

“No.”

“Where be you a-stopping?”

“That is my business, too.”

“Don’t git sassy.”

“I am not ‘sassy,’ as you call it. I intend, in the future, to mind my own business, and I want you to mind yours.”

“You had better leave Andy alone,” put in Chet, who saw that the shiftless man was working himself up into the worst possible humor. “You never helped him, and he doesn’t want anything to do with you.”

“Say, this ain’t none o’ your business, Chet Greene.”

“Andy is my friend.”

“Humph! he better not be!” snarled Josiah Graham. “You ain’t no fit boy fer nobuddy to go with – you the son o’ a thief, an’ mebbe wuss. I want you – Oh!”

What Josiah Graham wanted next was never made known, for just then he landed flat on his back in the gutter, where a well-directed blow from Chet’s fist had sent him.