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North-Pole Voyages

<h2>CHAPTER XX.</h2> <div class='chaptertitle'>DESERTERS.</div> <div class='cap'>HANS had been for some time promising the hungry company a deer. He had seen their tracks, and he was watching for them with a good rifle, a keen eye, and a steady hand. He came in on the evening of February twenty-second with the good news that he had lodged a ball in one at a long range, and that he went hobbling away. He was sure he should find him dead in the morning. The morning came and the game was found, having staggered, bleeding, only two miles. He was a noble fellow, measuring in length six feet and two inches, and five feet in girth. He weighed about one hundred and eighty pounds when dressed. The enfeebled men with difficulty drew him on board. His presence caused a thrill of joy, and his luscious flesh sent its invigoration through their emaciated frames.</div> The following Sunday, as Dr. Kane was standing on deck thinking of their situation, he lifted up his eyes toward a familiar berg, for many months shrouded in darkness, and saw it sparkling in the sunlight. The King of Day was not yet above the intervening hills, but he had sent his sheen to proclaim his coming. Glad as a boy whom the full mid-winter moon invites to a coasting[187] frolic, he started on a run, climbed the elevations, and bathed in his refreshing rays. During the month of February, Petersen, Hans, and Godfrey had been sent out on the track of the Esquimo, but they returned and declared that Etah could not be reached. Their commander said, "Nay, it can!" By the sixth of March the brig was again without fresh meat. The sick were once more suffering for it, and the well growing feeble. Hans, the resort in such emergencies, was given a light sledge, the two surviving dogs, and to him was committed the forlorn hope. His departure called forth from his commander a "God bless you!" and prayers followed him. His story is simple and touching. He lodged the first night in the "wind-loved," forsaken, desolate, yet friendly hut of Anoatok. He slept as well as he could in a temperature fifty-three degrees below zero. The next night he slept in a friendly hut at Etah. The oft-tried feat was accomplished. But he found the Etahites lean and hungry. Hollow cheeks and sunken eyes spoke of famine. The skin of a young sea-unicorn, their last game, was all of food which remained to the settlement. They had even eaten their light and fire blubber, and were seated in darkness, gloomily waiting for the sun and the hunt. They had eaten, too, all but four of their ample supply of dogs. They hailed the coming of Hans with a shout. He proposed to join them in a hunt, but they[188] shook their heads. They had lost a harpoon and line in the attempt to take a walrus the day before. The ice was yet thick, and the huge monster in his struggles had broken the line over its sharp edge. Hans showed them his "boom," and bidding them come on, started for the hunting-grounds. Metek—Mr. Eider Duck—speared a fair-sized walrus, and Hans gave him five conical balls in quick succession from a Marston rifle, and he surrendered at discretion. The return of the hunters caused great joy in the city of Etah, whose two huts poured out their inhabitants to greet their coming, and aid in rendering due honors to the game itself. As usual they laughed, feasted, and slept, to awake, laugh, eat, and sleep again. Hans and his boom were great in their eyes, but the Kablunah, whose representative he was, rose before their vision as the glorious sun which scatters the long winter darkness. Hans obtained a hunter's share, and his appearance on the deck of the "Advance," heralded by the yelping of the dogs, sent a thrill of joy through every heart. As Dr. Kane grasped his hand on the deck, and began to listen to his story, he exclaimed: "Speak louder, Hans, that they may hear in the bunks!" The bunks did hear, and feel too, as the good news came home to their hunger-wasted bodies in refreshing food. As the commander had requested, Hans brought Myouk with him to assist in hunting. The smart young hunter was delighted to be with the white[189] men, though his itching fingers would secrete cups, spoons, and other valuables, which were made to come back to their proper places by sundry cuffs and kicks, which, though perhaps not altogether pleasant of themselves, caused him to cuddle down in his buffalo at his master's feet like a whipped spaniel, and their relations grew daily more enjoyable. Hans and Myouk made soon after an unsuccessful hunt. This made the fresh meat question come up again with its emphatic importance. The fuel question, too, was becoming more and more a cause of concern. The manilla cable had been chopped up and burned, and such portions of the brig as could be spared, and not destroy her sea-going value, had gone in the same way. Now the nine feet of solid ice in which she was imbedded seemed to say that she would never float again, so she might as well yield her planks to the fire. But to see her thus used went to the hearts of her gallant men. On the nineteenth of March Hans was dispatched to the Esquimo, well supplied with the first quality of cord for their harpoons, and such other prompters to, and helps in, the walrus hunt as occurred to his commander. He would bless thereby and please these starving people, hoping that the blessing would return in the form of fresh walrus to him and his suffering men. During the absence of Hans there were unusual and painful developments at the brig. William Godfrey and John Blake had given Dr. Kane much[190] trouble from the first. They were now evidently bent on mischief, and made constant watchfulness over them a necessity. Just as Hans left they feigned sickness, and were suspected of desiring rest and recruited strength for desertion. Their plan was believed to be to waylay Hans and get his sledge and dogs. Dr. Kane contrived so shrewdly to keep one of them at work under his eye, and the other in some other place, that they did not perceive his suspicions of them. One night Bill was heard to say that some time during the following day he should leave, and this was reported to the commander by a faithful listener. He was, of course watched, and at six o'clock was called to prepare breakfast. This he commenced doing uneasily, stealing whispers with John. Finally he seemed at his ease, and cooked and served the breakfast. Dr. Kane believed he meant to slip out the first opportunity, meet John on deck, and desert; he therefore armed himself, threw on his furs, made Bonsall and Morton acquainted with his plans, and crept out of the dark avenue and hid near its entrance. After an hour of cold waiting John crept out, grunting and limping, for he had been feigning lameness, looked quickly round, and seeing no one, mounted nimbly the stairs to the deck. Ten minutes later Godfrey came out, booted and fur-clad for a journey. As he emerged from the tossut his commander confronted him, pistol in hand. He was ordered back to the cabin, while Morton compelled John's return, and Bonsall guarded the door[191] preventing any one passing out. In a few moments John came creeping into the cabin, awful lame and terribly exhausted in his effort to breathe a little fresh air on deck. He looked amazed as by the glare of the light he saw the situation. The commander then explained to the company the offenses of the culprits, giving from the log-book the details of their plotting. He had prepared himself for the occasion, and Bill, the principal, was punished on the spot. He confessed his guiltiness, promised good behavior, and in view of the few men able to work, his hand-cuffs were removed and he was sent about his customary business. In an hour after he deserted. Dr. Kane was at the moment away hunting, and his escape was not noticed until he was beyond the reach of a rifle ball. The next two weeks were weary, anxious weeks, though the ever-watchful Hand tendered in good time occasion for hope. Six sea-fowl and three hares were shot by Petersen, and gave indispensable refreshment to the sick. On the second of April, just before noon, a man was seen, with a dog-sledge, lurking behind the hummocks near the brig. Dr. Kane went out armed to meet him. It proved to be Godfrey the deserter, who, seeing his old comrades, left the sledge and run. Leaving Bonsall with his rifle to make sure of the sledge, the doctor gave chase, and the fugitive, seeing but one following, stopped and turned around. He said he had made up his[192] mind to spend the rest of his life with Kalutunah and the Esquimo, and that no persuasion nor force should prevent him. A loaded pistol presented at his head did, though, persuade him to return to the brig. When he reached the gangway he refused to budge another step. Petersen was away hunting, Bonsall and Dr. Kane were so weak that they could barely stand, and all the other men, thirteen, were prostrated with the scurvy, so that they could not compel him by physical force. As the doctor was desirous not to hurt him, he left him under the guardianship of Bonsall's weapons while he went below for irons. Just as he returned to the deck Godfrey turned and fled. Bonsall presented his pistol, which exploded the cap only. Kane seized a rifle, but being affected by the cold, it went off in the act of cocking. A second gun, fired in haste at a long range, missed its mark. So the rebel made good his retreat. He had come back with Hans' sledge and dogs, and reported him sick at Etah from over exhaustion. But there was one consolation in the affair—the sledge was loaded with walrus-meat. The feast that followed revived the drooping men wonderfully. They ate, were thankful, and looked hopefully on the future. Godfrey was suspected of having come back to get John. The desertion of two well men when so many were sick would imperil the lives of all. The commander felt that the safety of the whole required the faithfulness of each man, he therefore explained the situation to the men and declared[193] his determination to punish desertion, or the attempt to desert, by the "sternest penalty." Hans became now the subject of anxiety. Some unfair dealing toward him on the part of Godfrey was feared. It was thought but just that he should be sought, and, if in trouble, relieved. But who should go? Dr. Kane finally resolved to go after him himself. Besides, the question of more walrus was again pressing. April tenth the doctor was off. The first eleven hours the dogs carried him sixty-four miles, a most remarkable speed for their short rations. While thus speeding along, far out on the floe, he spied a black speck in-shore away to the south. Was it some cheat of refraction? He paused, took his gun, and sighted the object, a device of old Arctic travelers to baffle refraction. It is an animal—yes, a man! Away went the dogs, ten miles an hour, while the rider cheated them with the shout, "Nannook! nannook!"—a bear! a bear! In a few moments Hans and the doctor were in grateful, earnest talk. He had really been sick. He had been down five days, and, as he expressed it, still felt "a little weak." He took his commander's place on the sledge and both went to the friendly hut at Anoatok, where hot tea and rest prepared both for the return to the brig. <hr style="width: 65%;" />[194] <div style="break-after:column;"></div>

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