fallen, and it was only after many futile efforts that they managed
to reach each other. Having done so, they tied their belts together to
prevent another separation, and crept along the sand to a little rising
ground crowned by a small clump of pines. Once there they were a little
more protected, and they proceeded to dig themselves a hole, in which
they crouched in a state of absolute exhaustion and prostration.
It was half-past eleven o’clock P.M.
For some minutes neither spoke. With eyes half closed they lay in a kind
of torpor, whilst the trees above them bent beneath the wind, and their
branches rattled like the bones of a skeleton. But yet again they roused
themselves from this fatal lethargy, and a few mouthfuls of rum from the
Sergeant’s flask revived them.
“Let us hope these trees will hold,” at last observed Hobson.
“And that our hole will not blow away with them,” added the
Sergeant, crouching in the soft sand.
“Well!” said Hobson, “here we are at last, a few feet from Cape
Michael, and as we came to make observations, let us make them. I have
a presentiment, Sergeant, only a presentiment, remember, that we are not
far from firm ground!”
Had the southern horizon been visible the two adventurers would have
been able to see two-thirds of it from their position; but it was too
dark to make out anything, and if the hurricane had indeed driven them
within sight of land, they would not be able to see it until daylight,
unless a fire should be lighted on the continent.
As the Lieutenant had told Mrs Barnett, fishermen often visited that
part of North America, which is called New Georgia, and there are a good
many small native colonies, the members of which collect the teeth of
mammoths, these fossil elephants being very numerous in these
latitudes. A few degrees farther south, on the island of Sitka, rises
New-Archangel, the principal settlement in Russian America, and the
head-quarters of the Russian Fur Company, whose jurisdiction once
extended over the whole of the Aleutian Islands. The shores of the
Arctic Ocean are, however, the favourite resort of hunters, especially
since the Hudson’s Bay Company took a lease of the districts formerly
in the hands of the Russians; and Hobson, although he knew nothing
of the country, was well acquainted with the habits of those who were
likely to visit it at this time of the year, and was justified in
thinking that he might meet fellow-countrymen, perhaps even members of
his own Company, or, failing them, some native Indians, scouring the
coasts.
But could the Lieutenant reasonably hope that Victoria Island had been
driven towards the coast?
“Yes, a hundred times yes,” he repeated to the Sergeant again
and again. “For seven days a hurricane has been blowing from the
northeast, and although I know that the island is very flat, and there
is not much for the wind to take hold of, still all these little hills
and woods spread out like sails must have felt the influence of the wind
to a certain extent. Moreover, the sea which bears us along feels its
power, and large waves are certainly running in shore. It is impossible
for us to have remained in the current which was dragging us to the
west, we must have been driven out of it, and towards the south. Last
time we took our bearings we were two hundred miles from the coast, and
in seven days “--
“Your reasonings are very just, Lieutenant,” replied the Sergeant,
“and I feel that whether the wind helps us or not, God will not
forsake us. It cannot be His will that so many unfortunate creatures
should perish, and I put my trust in Him!”
The two talked on in broken sentences, making each other hear above the
roaring of the storm, and struggling to pierce the gloom which closed
them in on every side; but they could see nothing, not a ray of light
broke the thick darkness.
About half past one A.M. the hurricane ceased for a few minutes, whilst
the fury of the sea seemed to be redoubled, and the large waves, lashed
into foam, broke over each other with a roar like thunder.
Suddenly Hobson seizing his companion’s arm shouted--
“Sergeant, do you hear?”
“What?”
“The noise of the sea?”
“Of course I do, sir,” replied Long, listening more attentively,
“and the sound of the breakers seems to me not”--
“Not exactly the same... isn’t it Sergeant; listen, listen, it
is like the sound of surf!... it seems as if the waves were breaking
against rocks!”
Hobson and the Sergeant now listened intently, the monotonous sound
of the waves dashing against each other in the offing was certainly
exchanged for the regular rolling sound produced by the breaking of
water against a hard body; they heard the reverberating echoes which
told of the neighbourhood of rocks, and they knew that along the whole
of the coast of their island there was not a single stone, and nothing
more sonorous than the earth and sand of which it was composed!
Could they have been deceived? The Sergeant tried to rise to listen
better, but he was immediately flung down by the hurricane, which
recommenced with renewed violence. The lull was over, and again the
noise of the waves was drowned in the shrill whistling of the wind, and
the peculiar echo could no longer be made out.
The anxiety of the two explorers will readily be imagined. They again
crouched down in their hole, doubting whether it would not perhaps be
prudent to leave even this shelter, for they felt the sand giving
way beneath them, and the pines cracking at their very roots. They
persevered, however, in gazing towards the south, every nerve strained
to the utmost, in the effort to distinguish objects through the
darkness.
The first grey twilight of the dawn might soon be expected to appear,
and a little before half-past two A.M. Long suddenly exclaimed:
“I see it!”
“What?”
“A fire!”
“A fire?”
“Yes, there--over there!”
And he pointed to the south-west. Was he mistaken? No, for Hobson also
made out a faint glimmer in the direction indicated.
“Yes!” he cried, “yes, Sergeant, a fire; there is land there!”
“Unless it is a fire on board ship,” replied Long.
“A ship at sea in this weather!” exclaimed Hobson, “impossible!
No, no, there is land there, land I tell you, a few miles from us!”
“Well, let us make a signal!”
“Yes, Sergeant, we will reply to the fire on the mainland by a fire on
our island!”
Of course neither Hobson nor Long had a torch, but above their heads
rose resinous pines distorted by the hurricane.
“Your flint, Sergeant,” said Hobson.
Long at once struck his flint, lighted the touchwood, and creeping along
the sand climbed to the foot of the thicket of firs, where he was soon
joined by the Lieutenant. There was plenty of deadwood about, and they
piled it up at the stems of the trees, set fire to it, and soon, the
wind helping them, they had the satisfaction of seeing the whole thicket
in a blaze
“Ah!” said Hobson, “as we saw their fire, they will see ours!”
The firs burnt with a lurid glare like a large torch. The dried resin in
the old trunks aided the conflagration, and they were rapidly consumed.
At last the crackling ceased, the flames died away, and all was
darkness.
Hobson and Long looked in vain for an answering fire--nothing was to be
seen. For ten minutes they watched, hoping against hope, and were just
beginning to despair, when suddenly a cry was heard, a distinct cry for
help. It was a human voice, and it came from the sea.
Hobson and Long, wild with eager anxiety, let themselves slide down to
the shore.
The cry was not, however, repeated.
The daylight was now gradually beginning to appear, and the violence of
the tempest seemed to be decreasing. Soon it was light enough for the
horizon to be examined.
But there was no land in sight, sea and sky were still blended in one
unbroken circle.
CHAPTER VIII. MRS. PAULINA BARNETT’S EXCURSION. The whole morning
Hobson and Sergeant Long wandered about the coast. The weather was much
improved, the rain had ceased, and the wind had veered round to
the south-east with extraordinary suddenness, without unfortunately
decreasing in violence, causing fresh anxiety to the Lieutenant, who
could no longer hope to reach the mainland.
The south-east wind would drive the wandering island farther from the
continent, and fling it into the dangerous currents, which must drift it
to the north of the Arctic Ocean.
How could they even be sure that they had really approached the coast
during the awful night just over. Might it not have been merely a fancy
of the Lieutenant’s? The air was now clear, and they could look round
a radius of several miles; yet there was nothing in the least resembling
land within sight. Might they not adopt the Sergeant’s suggestion,
that a ship had passed the island during the night, that the fire and
cry were alike signals of sailors in distress? And if it had been a
vessel, must it not have foundered in such a storm?
Whatever the explanation there was no sign of a wreck to be seen either
in the offing or on the beach, and the waves, now driven along by the
wind from the land, were large enough to have overwhelmed any vessel.
“Well, Lieutenant,” said Sergeant Long, “what is to be done?’“
“We must remain upon our island,” replied the Lieutenant, pressing
his hand to his brow; “we must remain on our island and wait for
winter; it alone can save us.”
It was now mid-day, and Hobson, anxious to get back to Fort Hope before
the evening, at once turned towards Cape Bathurst.
The wind, being now on their backs, helped them along as it had done
before. They could not help feeling very uneasy, as they were naturally
afraid that the island might have separated into two parts in the storm.
The gulf observed the night before might have spread farther, and if so
they would be cut off from their friends.
They soon reached the wood they had crossed the night before. Numbers of
trees were lying on the ground, some with broken stems, others torn up
by the roots from the soft soil, which had not afforded them sufficient
support. The few which remained erect were stripped of their leaves,
and their naked branches creaked and moaned as the south-east wind swept
over them.
Two miles beyond this desolated forest the wanderers arrived at the edge
of the gulf they had seen the night before without being able to judge
of its extent. They examined it carefully, and found that it was about
fifty feet wide, cutting the coast line straight across near Cape
Michael and what was formerly Fort Barnett, forming a kind of estuary
running more than a mile and a half inland. If the sea should again
become rough in a fresh storm, this gulf would widen more and more.
Just as Hobson approached the beach, he saw a large piece of ice
separate from the island and float away!
“Ah!” murmured Long, “that is the danger!”
Both then turned hurriedly to the west, and walked as fast as they could
round the huge gulf, making direct for Fort Hope.
They noticed no other changes by the way, and towards four o’clock
they crossed the court and found all their comrades at their usual
occupations.
Hobson told his men that he had wished once more before the winter to
see if there were any signs of the approach of Captain Craventy’s
convoy, and that his expedition had been fruitless.
“Then, sir,” observed Marbre, “I suppose we must give up all idea
of seeing our comrades from Fort Reliance for this year at least?”
“I think you must,” replied Hobson simply, re-entering the public
room.
Mrs Barnett and Madge were told of the two chief events of the
exploration: the fire and the cry. Hobson was quite sure that neither he
nor the Sergeant were mistaken. The fire had really been seen, the cry
had really been heard; and after a long consultation every one came to
the conclusion that a ship in distress had passed within sight during
the night, and that the island had not approached the American coast.
The south-east wind quickly chased away the clouds and mists, so that
Hobson hoped to be able to take his bearings the next day. The night
was colder and a fine snow fell, which quickly covered the ground. This
first sign of winter was hailed with delight by all who knew of the
peril of their situation.
On the 2nd September the sky gradually became free from vapours of all
kinds, and the sun again appeared. Patiently the Lieutenant awaited
its culmination; at noon he took the latitude, and two hours later a
calculation of hour-angles gave him the longitude.
The following were the results obtained: Latitude, 70° 57’;
longitude, 170° 30’.
So that, in spite of the violence of the hurricane, the island had
remained in much the same latitude, although it had been drifted
somewhat farther west. They were now abreast of Behring Strait, but four
hundred miles at least north of Capes East and Prince of Wales, which
jut out on either side at the narrowest part of the passage.
The situation was, therefore, more dangerous than ever, as the island
was daily getting nearer to the dangerous Kamtchatka Current, which, if
it once seized it in its rapid waters, might carry it far away to the
north. Its fate would now soon be decided. It would either stop where
the two currents met, and there be shut in by the ice of the approaching
winter, or it would be drifted away and lost in the solitudes of the
remote hyperborean regions.
Hobson was painfully moved on ascertaining the true state of things, and
being anxious to conceal his emotion, he shut himself up in his own room
and did not appear again that day. With his chart before him, he racked
his brains to find some way out of the difficulties with which be was
beset.
The temperature fell some degrees farther the same day, and the mists,
which had collected above the south-eastern horizon the day before,
resolved themselves into snow during the night, so that the next day the
white carpet was two inches thick. Winter was coming at last.
On September 3rd Mrs Barnett resolved to go a few miles along the coast
towards Cape Esquimaux. She wished to see for herself the changes lately
produced. If she had mentioned her project to the Lieutenant, he would
certainly have offered to accompany her; but she did not wish to disturb
him, and decided to go without him, taking Madge with her. There was
really nothing to fear, the only formidable animals, the bears, seemed
to have quite deserted the island after the earthquake; and two women
might, without danger, venture on a walk of a few hours without an
escort.
Madge agreed at once to Mrs Barnett’s proposal, and without a word
to any one they set out at eight o’clock A.M., provided with an
ice-chisel, a flask of spirits, and a wallet of provisions.
After leaving Cape Bathurst they turned to the west. The sun was already
dragging its slow course along the horizon, for at this time of year it
would only be a few degrees above it at its culmination. But its oblique
rays were clear and powerful, and the snow was already melting here and
there beneath their influence.
The coast was alive with flocks of birds of many kinds; ptarmigans,
guillemots, puffins, wild geese, and ducks of every variety fluttered
about, uttering their various cries, skimming the surface of the sea
or of the lagoon, according as their tastes led them to prefer salt or
fresh water.
Mrs Barnett had now a capital opportunity of seeing how many furred
animals haunted the neighbourhood of Fort Hope. Martens, ermines,
musk-rats, and foxes were numerous, and the magazines of the factory
might easily have been filled with their skins, but what good would that
be now? The inoffensive creatures, knowing that hunting was suspended,
went and came fearlessly, venturing close up to the palisade, and
becoming tamer every day. Their instinct doubtless told them that they
and their old enemies were alike prisoners on the island, and a common
danger bound them together. It struck Mrs Barnett as strange that
the two enthusiastic hunters--Marbre and Sabine--should obey the
Lieutenant’s orders to spare the furred animals without remonstrance
or complaint, and appeared not even to wish to shoot the valuable game
around them. It was true the foxes and others had not yet assumed
their winter robes, but this was not enough to explain the strange
indifference of the two hunters.
Whilst walking at a good pace and talking over their strange situation,
Mrs Barnett and Madge carefully noted the peculiarities of the sandy
coast. The ravages recently made by the sea were distinctly visible.
Fresh landslips enabled them to see new fractures in the ice distinctly.
The strand, fretted away in many places, had sunk to an enormous extent,
and the waves washed along a level beach when the perpendicular shores
had once checked their advance. It was evident that parts of the island
were now only on a level with the ocean.
“O Madge!” exclaimed Mrs Barnett, pointing to the long smooth tracts
on which the curling waves broke in rapid succession, “our situation
has indeed become aggravated by the awful storm! It is evident that the
level of the whole island is gradually becoming lower. It is now only
a question of time. Will the winter come soon enough to save us?
Everything depends upon that.”
“The winter will come, my dear girl,” replied Madge with her usual
unshaken confidence. “We have already had two falls of snow. Ice is
[begininng] beginning to accumulate, and God will send it us in time, I
feel sure.”
“You are right. Madge, we must have faith!” said Mrs Barnett. “We
women who do not trouble ourselves about the scientific reasons for
physical phenomena can hope, when men who are better informed,
perhaps, despair. That is one of our blessings, which our Lieutenant
unfortunately does not share. He sees the significance of facts, he
reflects, he calculates, he reckons up the time still remaining to us,
and I see that he is beginning to lose all hope.”
“He is a brave, energetic man, for all that,” replied Madge.
“Yes,” added Mrs Barnett, “and if it be in the power of man to
save us, he will do it.”
By nine o’clock the two women had walked four miles. They were often
obliged to go inland for some little distance, to avoid parts of
the coast already invaded by the sea. Here and there the waves had
encroached half-a-mile beyond the former high-water line, and the
thickness of the ice-field had been considerably reduced. There was
danger that it would soon yield in many places, and that new bays would
be formed all along the coast.
As they got farther from the fort Mrs Barnett noticed that the number of
furred animals decreased considerably. The poor creatures evidently felt
more secure near a human habitation. The only formidable animals which
had not been led by instinct to escape in time from the dangerous island
were a few wolves, savage beasts which even a common danger did not
conciliate. Mrs Barnett and Madge saw several wandering about on the
plains, but they did not approach, and soon disappeared behind the hills
on the south of the lagoon.
“What will become of all these imprisoned animals,” said Madge,
“when all food fails them, and they are famished with hunger in the
winter?”
“They will not be famished in a hurry, Madge,” replied Mrs Barnett,
“and we shall have nothing to fear from them; all the martens,
ermines, and Polar hares, which we spare will fall an easy prey to them.
That is not our danger; the brittle ground beneath our feet, which may
at any moment give way, is our real peril. Only look how the sea is
advancing here. It already covers half the plain, and the waves, still
comparatively warm, are eating away our island above and below at the
same time! If the cold does not stop it very soon, the sea will shortly
join the lake, and we shall lose our lagoon as we lost our river and our
port!”
“Well, if that should happen it will indeed be an irreparable
misfortune!” exclaimed Madge.
“Why?” asked Mrs Barnett, looking inquiringly at her companion.
“Because we shall have no more fresh water,” replied Madge.
“Oh, we shall not want for fresh water, Madge,” said Mrs Barnett;
“the rain, the snow, the ice, the icebergs of the ocean, the very
ice-field on which we float, will supply us with that; no, no, that is
not our danger.”
About ten o’clock Mrs Barnett and Madge had readied the rising ground
above Cape Esquimaux, but at least two miles inland, for they had found
it impossible to follow the coast, worn away as it was by the sea. Being
rather tired with the many détours they had had to make, they decided
to rest a few minutes before setting off on their return to Fort Hope. A
little hill crowned by a clump of birch trees and a few shrubs afforded
a pleasant shelter, and a bank covered with yellow moss, from which the
snow had melted, served them as a seat. The little wallet was opened,
and they shared their simple repast like sisters.
Half an hour later, Mrs Barnett proposed that they should climb
along the promontory to the sea, and find out the exact state of Cape
Esquimaux. She was anxious to know if the point of it had resisted the
storm, and Madge declared herself ready to follow “her dear girl”
wherever she went, but at the same time reminded her that they were
eight or nine miles from Cape Bathurst already, and that they must not
make Lieutenant Hobson uneasy by too long an absence.
But some presentiment made Mrs Barnett insist upon doing as she
proposed, and she was right, as the event proved. It would only delay
them half an hour after all.
They had not gone a quarter of a mile before Mrs Barnett stopped
suddenly, and pointed to some clear and regular impressions upon the
snow. These marks must have been made within the last nine or ten hours,
or the last fall of snow would have covered them over.
“What animal has passed along here, I wonder?” said Madge.
“It was not an animal,” said Mrs Barnett, bending down to examine
the marks more closely, “not a quadruped certainly, for its four feet
would have left impressions very different from these. Look, Madge, they
are the footprints of a human person!”
“But who could have been here?” inquired Madge; “none of the
soldiers or women have left the fort, and we are on an island, remember.
You must be mistaken, my dear; but we will follow the marks, and see
where they lead us.”
They did so, and fifty paces farther on both again paused.
“Look, Madge, look!” cried Mrs Barnett, seizing her companion’s
arm, “and then say if I am mistaken.”
Near the footprints there were marks of a heavy body having been dragged
along the snow, and the impression of a hand.
“It is the hand of a woman or a child!” cried Madge.
“Yes!” replied Mrs Barnett; “a woman or a child has fallen here
exhausted, and risen again to stumble farther on; look, the footprints
again, and father on more falls!”
“Who, who could it have been?” exclaimed Madge.
“How can I tell?” replied Mrs Barnett. “Some unfortunate creature
imprisoned like ourselves for three or four months perhaps. Or some
shipwrecked wretch flung upon the coast in the storm. You remember the
fire and the cry of which Sergeant Long and Lieutenant Hobson spoke.
Come, come, Madge, there may be some one in danger for us to save!
And Mrs Barnett, dragging Madge with her, ran along following the
traces, and further on found that they were stained with blood.
The brave, tender-hearted woman, had spoken of saving some one in
danger; had she then forgotten that there was no safety for any upon the
island, doomed sooner or later to be swallowed up by the ocean?
The impressions on the ground led towards Cape Esquimaux. And the two
carefully traced them, but the footprints presently disappeared, whilst
the blood-stains increased, making an irregular pathway along the snow.
It was evident the poor wretch had been unable to walk farther, and had
crept along on hands and knees; here and there fragments of torn clothes
were scattered about, bits of sealskin and fur.
“Come, come,” cried Mrs Barnett, whose heart beat violently.
Madge followed her, they were only a few yards from Cape Esquimaux,
which now rose only a few feet upon the sea-level against the background
of the sky, and was quite deserted.
The impressions now led them to the right of the cape, and running along
they soon climbed to the top, but there was still nothing, absolutely
nothing, to be seen. At the foot of the cape, where the slight ascent
began, the traces turned to the right, and led straight to the sea.
Mrs Barnett was turning to the right also, but just as she was stepping
on to the beach, Madge, who had been following her and looking about
uneasily, caught hold of her hand, and exclaimed--
“Stop! stop!” “No, Madge, no!” cried Mrs Barnett, who was drawn
along by a kind of instinct in spite of herself.
“Stop, stop, and look!” cried Madge, tightening her hold on her
mistress’s hand.
On the beach, about fifty paces from Cape Esquimaux, a large white mass
was moving about and growling angrily.
It was an immense Polar bear, and the two women watched it with beating
hearts. It was pacing round and round a bundle of fur on the ground,
which it smelt at every now and then, lifting it up and letting it fall
again. The bundle of fur looked like the dead body of a walrus.
Mrs Barnett and Madge did not know what to think, whether to advance
or to retreat, but presently as the body was moved about a kind of hood
fell back from the head, and some long locks of brown hair were thrown
over the snow.
“It is a woman! a woman!” cried Mrs Barnett, eager to rush to her
assistance and find out if she were dead or alive!
“Stop!” repeated Madge, holding her back; “the bear won’t harm
her.”
And, indeed, the formidable creature merely turned the body over, and
showed no inclination of tearing it with its dreadful claws. It went
away and came back apparently uncertain what to do. It had not yet
perceived the two women who were so anxiously watching it.
Suddenly a loud crack was heard. The earth shook, and it seemed as if
the whole of Cape Esquimaux were about to be plunged into the sea.
A large piece of the island had broken away, and a huge piece of ice,
the centre of gravity of which had been displaced by the alteration in
its specific weight, drifted away, carrying with it the bear and the
body of the woman.
Mrs Barnett screamed, and would have flung herself upon the broken
ice before it floated away, if Madge had not clutched her hand firmly,
saying quietly--
“Stop! stop!”
At the noise produced by the breaking off of the piece of ice, the bear
started back with a fearful growl, and, leaving the body, rushed to the
side where the fracture had taken place; but he was already some forty
feet from the coast, and in his terror he ran round and round the islet,
tearing up the ground with his claws, and stamping the sand and snow
about him.
Presently he returned to the motionless body, and, to the horror of the
two women, seized it by the clothes with his teeth, and carrying it to
the edge of the ice, plunged with it into the sea.
Being a powerful swimmer, like the whole race of Arctic bears, he soon
gained the shores of the island. With a great exertion of strength
he managed to climb up the ice, and having reached the surface of the
island he quietly laid down the body he had brought with him.
Mrs Barnett could no longer be held back, and, shaking off Madge’s
hold, she rushed to the beach, never thinking of the danger she ran in
facing a formidable carnivorous creature.
The bear, seeing her approach, reared upon his hind legs, and came
towards her, but at about ten paces off he paused, shook his great head,
and turning round with a low growl, quietly walked away towards the
centre of the island, without once looking behind him. He, too, was
evidently affected by the mysterious fear which had tamed all the wild
animals on the island.
Mrs Barnett was soon bending over the body stretched about the snow.
A cry of astonishment burst from her lips:
“Madge, Madge, come!” she exclaimed.
Madge approached and looked long and fixedly at the inanimate body. It
was the young Esquimaux girl Kalumah!
CHAPTER IX. KALUMAH’S ADVENTURES. Kalumah on the floating island, two
hundred miles from the American coast. It was almost incredible!
The first thing to be ascertained was whether the poor creature still
breathed. Was it possible to restore her to life? Mrs Barnett loosened
her clothes, and found that her body was not yet quite cold. Her heart
beat very feebly, but it did beat. The blood they had seen came from a
slight wound in her hand; Madge bound it up with her handkerchief, and
the bleeding soon ceased.
At the same time Mrs Barnett raised the poor girl’s head, and managed
to pour a few drops of rum between her parted lips. She then bathed her
forehead and temples with cold water, and waited.
A few minutes passed by, and neither of the watchers were able to utter
a word, so anxious were they lest the faint spark of life remaining to
the young Esquimaux should be quenched.
But at last Kalumah’s breast heaved with a faint sigh, her hands moved
feebly, and presently she opened her eyes, and recognising her preserver
she murmured--
“Mrs Barnett! Mrs Barnett!”
The lady was not a little surprised at hearing her own name. Had Kalumah
voluntarily sought the floating island, and did she expect to find her
old European friends on it? If so, how had she come to know it, and
how had she managed to reach the island, two hundred miles from the
mainland? How could she have guessed that the ice-field as bearing Mrs
Barnett and all the occupants of Fort Hope away from the American coast?
Really it all seemed quite inexplicable.
“She lives--she will recover!” exclaimed Madge, who felt the vital
heat and pulsation returning to the poor bruised body.
“Poor child, poor child’“ said Mrs Barnett, much affected; “she
murmured my name when she was at the point of death.”
But now Kalumah again half opened her eyes, and looked about her with a
dreamy unsatisfied expression, presently, however, seeing Mrs Barnett,
her face brightened, the same name again burst from her lips, and
painfully raising her hand she let it fall on that of her friend.
The anxious care of the two women soon revived Kalumah, whose extreme
exhaustion arose not only from fatigue but also from hunger. She had
eaten nothing for forty-eight hours. Some pieces of cold venison and
a little rum refreshed her, and she soon felt able to accompany her
newly-found friends to the fort.
Before starting, however, Kalumah, seated on the sand between Mrs
Barnett and Madge, overwhelmed them with thanks and expressions of
attachment. Then she told her story: she had not forgotten the Europeans
of Fort Hope, and the thought of Mrs Paulina Barnett had been ever
present with her. It was not by chance, as we shall see, that she had
come to Victoria Island.
The following is a brief summary of what Kalumah related to Mrs
Barnett:--
Our readers will remember the young Esquimaux’s promise to come and
see her friends at Fort Hope again in the fine season of the next year.
The long Polar night being over, and the month of May having come round,
Kalumah set out to fulfil her pledge. She left Russian America, where
she had wintered, and accompanied by one of her brothers-in-law, started
for the peninsula of Victoria.
Six weeks later, towards the middle of June, she got to that part of
British America which is near Cape Bathurst. She at once recognised the
volcanic mountains shutting in Liverpool Bay, and twenty miles farther
east she came to Walruses’ Bay, where her people had so often hunted
morses and seals.
But beyond the bay on the north, there was nothing to be seen. The
coast suddenly sank to the south-east in an almost straight line. Cape
Esquimaux and Cape Bathurst had alike disappeared.
Kalumah understood what had happened. Either the whole of the peninsula
had been swallowed up by the waves, or it was floating away as an
island, no one knew whither!
Kalumah’s tears flowed fast at the loss of those whom she had come so
far to see.
Her brother-in-law, however, had not appeared surprised at the
catastrophe. A kind of legend or tradition had been handed down amongst
the nomad tribes of North America, that Cape Bathurst did not form part
of the mainland, but had been joined on to it thousands of years before,
and would sooner or later be torn away in some convulsion of nature.
Hence the surprise at finding the factory founded by Hobson at the foot
of the cape. But with the unfortunate reserve characteristic of their
race, and perhaps also under the influence of that enmity which all
natives feel for those who settle in their country, they said nothing to
the Lieutenant, whose fort was already finished. Kalumah knew nothing of
this tradition, which after all rested on no trustworthy evidence, and
probably belonged to the many northern legends relating to the creation.
This was how it was that the colonists of Fort Hope were not warned of
the danger they ran in settling on such a spot.
Had a word in season been spoken to Hobson he would certainly have gone
farther in search of some firmer foundation for his fort than this soil,
certain peculiarities of which he had noticed at the first.
When Kalumah had made quite sure that all trace of Cape Bathurst was
gone, she explored the coast as far as the further side of Washburn Bay,
but without finding any sign of those she sought, and at last there was
nothing left for her to do but to return to the fisheries of Russian
America.
She and her brother-in-law left Walruses’ Bay at the end of June, and
following the coast got back to New Georgia towards the end of July,
after an absolutely fruitless journey.
Kalumah now gave up all hope of again seeing Mrs Barnett and the other
colonists of Fort Hope. She concluded that they had all been swallowed
up by the ocean long ago.
At this part of her tale the young Esquimaux looked at Mrs Barnett with
eyes full of tears, and pressed her hand [affectionaly] affectionately,
and then she murmured her thanks to God for her own preservation through
the means of her friend.
Kalumah on her return home resumed her customary occupations, and worked
with the rest of her tribe at the fisheries near Icy Cape, a point a
little above the seventieth parallel, and more than six hundred miles
from Cape Bathurst.
Nothing worthy of note happened during the first half of the month of
April; but towards the end the storm began which had caused Hobson so
much uneasiness, and which had apparently extended its ravages over
the whole of the Arctic Ocean and beyond Behring Strait. It was equally
violent at Icy Cape and on Victoria Island, and, as the Lieutenant
ascertained in taking his bearings, the latter was then not more than
two hundred miles from the coast.
As Mrs Barnett listened to Kalumah, her previous information enabled her
rapidly to find the key to the strange events which had taken place, and
to account for the arrival of the young native on the island.
During the first days of the storm the Esquimaux of Icy Cape were
confined to their huts. They could neither get out nor fish. But during
the night of the 31st August a kind of presentiment led Kalumah to
venture down to the beach, and, braving the wind and rain in all their
fury, she peered anxiously through the darkness at the waves rising
mountains high.
Presently she thought she saw a huge mass driven along by the hurricane
parallel with the coast. Gifted with extremely keen sight--as are all
these wandering tribes accustomed to the long dark Polar nights--she
felt sure that she was not mistaken.
Something of vast bulk was passing two miles from the coast, and that
something could be neither a whale, a boat, nor, at this time of the
year, even an iceberg.
But Kalumah did not stop to reason. The truth flashed upon her like
a revelation. Before her excited imagination rose the images of her
friends. She saw them all once more, Mrs Barnett, Madge, Lieutenant
Hobson, the baby she had covered with kisses at Fort Hope. Yes, they
were passing, borne along in the storm on a floating ice-field!
Kalumah did not doubt or hesitate a moment. She felt that she must tell
the poor shipwrecked people, which she was sure they were, of the close
vicinity of the land. She ran to her hut, seized a torch of tow and
resin, such as the Esquimaux use when fishing at night, lit it and waved
it on the beach at the summit of Icy Cape.
This was the fire which Hobson and Long had seen when crouching on Cape
Michael on the night of the 31st August.
Imagine the delight and excitement of the young Esquimaux when a signal
replied to hers, when she saw the huge fire lit by Lieutenant Hobson,
the reflection of which reached the American coast, although he did not
dream that he was so near it.
But it quickly went out, the lull in the storm only lasted a few
minutes, and the fearful gale, veering round to the south-east, swept
along with redoubled violence.
Kalumah feared that her “prey,” so she called the floating island,
was about to escape her, and that it would not be driven on to the
shore. She saw it fading away, and knew that it would soon disappear in
the darkness and be lost to her on the boundless ocean.
It was indeed a terrible moment for the young native, and she determined
at all hazards to let her friends know of their situation. There might
yet be time for them to take some steps for their deliverance, although
every hour took them farther from the continent.
She did not hesitate a moment, her kayak was at hand, the frail bark in
which she had more than once braved the storms of the Arctic Ocean, she
pushed it down to the sea, hastily laced on the sealskin jacket fastened
to the canoe, and, the long paddle in her hand, she plunged into the
darkness.
Mrs Barnett here pressed the brave child to her heart, and Madge shed
tears of sympathy.
When launched upon the roaring ocean, Kalumah found the change of wind
in her favour. The waves dashed over her kayak, it is true, but they
were powerless to harm the light boat, which floated on their crests
like a straw. It was capsized several times, but a stroke of the paddle
righted it at once.
After about an hour’s hard work, Kalumah could see the wandering
island more distinctly, and had no longer any doubt of effecting her
purpose, as she was but a quarter of a mile from the beach.
It was then that she uttered the cry which Hobson and Long had heard.
But, alas! Kalumah now felt herself being carried away towards the west
by a powerful current, which could take firmer hold of her kayak than of
the floating island!
In vain she struggled to beat back with her paddle, the light boat
shot along like an arrow. She uttered scream after scream, but she was
unheard, for she was already far away, and when the day broke the coasts
of Alaska and the island she had wished to reach, were but two distant
masses on the horizon.
Did she despair? Not yet. It was impossible to get back to the American
continent in the teeth of the terrible wind which was driving the island
before it at a rapid pace, taking it out two hundred miles in thirty-six
hours, and assisted by the current from the coast.
There was but one thing left to do. To get to the island by keeping in
the same current which was drifting it away.
But, alas! the poor girl’s strength was not equal to her courage, she
was faint from want of food, and, exhausted as she was, she could no
longer wield her paddle.
For some hours she struggled on, and seemed to be approaching the
island, although those on it could not see her, as she was but a speck
upon the ocean. She struggled on until her stiffened arms and bleeding
hands fell powerless, and, losing consciousness, she was floated along
in her frail kayak at the mercy of winds and waves.
She did not know how long this lasted, she remembered nothing more,
until a sudden shock roused her, her kayak had struck against something,
it opened beneath her, and she was plunged into cold water, the
freshness of which revived her. A few moments later, she was flung upon
the sand in a dying state by a large wave.
This had taken place the night before, just before dawn--that is to
say, about two or three o’clock in the morning. Kalumah had then been
seventy hours at sea since she embarked!
The young native had no idea where she had been thrown, whether on the
continent or on the floating island, which she had so bravely sought,
but she hoped the latter. Yes, hoped that she had reached her friends,
although she knew that the wind and current had driven them into the
open sea, and not towards the coast!
The thought revived her, and, shattered as she was, she struggled to her
feet, and tried to follow the coast.
She had, in fact, been providentially thrown on that portion of Victoria
Island which was formerly the upper corner of Walruses’ Bay. But, worn
away as it was by the waves, she did not recognise the land with which
she had once been familiar.
She tottered on, stopped, and again struggled to advance; the beach
before her appeared endless, she had so often to go round where the sea
had encroached upon the sand. And so dragging herself along, stumbling
and scrambling up again, she at last approached the little wood where
Mrs. Barnett and Madge had halted that very morning. We know that the
two women found the footprints left by Kalumah in the snow not far from
this very spot, and it was at a short distance farther on that the poor
girl fell for the last time. Exhausted by fatigue and hunger, she still
managed to creep along on hands and knees for a few minutes longer.
A great hope kept her from despair, for she had at last recognised Cape
Esquimaux, at the foot of which she and her people had encamped the year
before. She knew now that she was but eight miles from the factory, and
that she had only to follow the path she had so often traversed when she
went to visit her friends at Fort Hope.
Yes, this hope sustained her, but she had scarcely reached the
beach when her forces entirely failed her, and she again lost all
consciousness. But for Mrs Barnett she would have died.
“But, dear lady,” she added, “I knew that you would come to my
rescue, and that God would save me by your means.”
We know the rest. We know the providential instinct which led Mrs
Barnett and Madge to explore this part of the coast on this very day,
and the presentiment which made them visit Cape Esquimaux after they had
rested, and before returning to Fort Hope. We know too--as Mrs Barnett
related to Kalumah-- how the piece of ice had floated away, and how the
bear had acted under the circumstances.
“And after all,” added Mrs Barnett with a smile, “it was not I who
saved you, but the good creature without whose aid you would never have
come back to us, and if ever we see him again we will treat him with the
respect due to your preserver.”
During this long conversation Kalumah was rested and refreshed, and Mrs
Barnett proposed that they should return to the fort at once, as she
had already been too long away. The young girl immediately rose ready to
start.
Mrs Barnett was indeed most anxious to tell the Lieutenant of all that
had happened during the night of the storm, when the wandering island
had neared the American continent, but she urged Kalumah to keep her
adventures secret, and to say nothing about the situation of the
island. She would naturally be supposed to have come along the coast, in
fulfilment of the promise she had made to visit her friends in the fine
season. Her arrival would tend only to strengthen the belief of the
colonists that no changes had taken place in the country around
Cape Bathurst, and to set at rest the doubts any of them might have
entertained.
It was about three o’clock when Madge and Mrs Barnett, with Kalumah
hanging on her arm, set out towards the east, and before five o’clock
in the afternoon they all arrived at the postern of the fort.
CHAPTER X. THE KAMTCHATKA CURRENT. We can readily imagine the reception
given to Kalumah by all at the fort. It seemed to them that the
communication with the outer world was reopened. Mrs Mac-Nab, Mrs Rae
and Mrs Joliffe overwhelmed her with caresses, but Kalumah’s first
thought was for the little child, she caught sight of him immediately,
and running to him covered him with kisses.
The young native was charmed and touched with the hospitality of her
European hosts. A positive fête was held in her honour and every one
was delighted that she would have to remain at the fort for the winter,
the season being too far advanced for her to get back to the settlements
of Russian America before the cold set in.
But if all the settlers were agreeably surprised at the appearance
of Kalumah, what must Lieutenant Hobson have thought when he saw her
leaning on Mrs Barnett’s arm. A sudden hope flashed across his mind
like lightning, and as quickly died away: perhaps in spite of the
evidence of his daily observations Victoria Island had run aground
somewhere on the continent unnoticed by any of them.
Mrs Barnett read the Lieutenant’s thoughts in his face, and shook her
head sadly.
He saw that no change had taken place in their situation, and waited
until Mrs Barnett was able to explain Kalumah’s appearance.
A few minutes later he was walking along the beach with the lady,
listening with great interest to her account of Kalumah’s adventures.
So he had been right in all his conjectures. The north-east hurricane
had driven the island out of the current. The ice-field had approached
within a mile at least of the American continent. It had not been a fire
on board ship which they had seen, or the cry of a shipwrecked mariner
which they had heard. The mainland had been close at hand, and had the
north-east wind blown hard for another hour Victoria Island would have
struck against the coast of Russian America. And then at this critical
moment a fatal, a terrible wind had driven the island away from the
mainland back to the open sea, and it was again in the grasp of the
irresistible current, and was being carried along with a speed which
nothing could check, the mighty south-east wind aiding its headlong
course, to that terribly dangerous spot where it would be exposed to
contrary attractions, either of which might lead to its destruction and
that of all the unfortunate people dragged along with it.
For the hundredth time the Lieutenant and Mrs Barnett discussed all the
bearings of the case, and then Hobson inquired if any important changes
had taken place in the appearance of the districts between Cape Bathurst
and Walruses’ Bay?
Mrs Barnett replied that in some places the level of the coast appeared
to be lowered, and that the waves now covered tracts of sand which
were formerly out of their reach. She related what had happened at Cape
Esquimaux, and the important fracture which had taken place at that part
of the coast.
Nothing could have been less satisfactory. It was evident that the
ice-field forming the foundation of the island was breaking up. What
had happened at Cape Esquimaux might at any moment be reproduced at
Cape Bathurst. At any hour of the day or night the houses of the factory
might be swallowed up by the deep, and the only thing which could save
them was the winter, the bitter winter which was fortunately rapidly
approaching.
The next day, September 4th, when Hobson took his bearings, he found
that the position of Victoria Island had not sensibly changed since
the day before. It had remained motionless between the two contrary
currents, which was on the whole the very best thing that could have
happened.
“If only the cold would fix us where we are, if the ice wall would
shut us in, and the sea become petrified around us,” exclaimed Hobson,
“I should feel that our safety was assured. We are but two hundred
miles from the coast at this moment, and by venturing across the frozen
ice fields we might perhaps reach either Russian America or Kamtchatka.
Winter, winter at any price, let the winter set in, no matter how
rapidly.”
Meanwhile, according to the Lieutenant’s orders, the preparations for
the winter were completed. Enough forage to last the dogs the whole of
the Polar night was stored up. They were all in good health, but getting
rather fat with having nothing to do. They could not be taken too much
care of, as they would have to work terribly hard in the journey across
the ice after the abandonment of Fort Hope. It was most important to
keep up their strength, and they were fed on raw reindeer venison,
plenty of which was easily attainable.
The tame reindeer also prospered, their stable was comfortable, and a
good supply of moss was laid by for them in the magazines of the fort.
The females provided Mrs Joliffe with plenty of milk for her daily
culinary needs.
The Corporal and his little wife had also sown fresh seeds, encouraged
by the success of the last in the warm season. The ground had been
prepared beforehand for the planting of scurvy-grass and Labrador
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1000