The Esquimaux leaves, and does not return.—All are able to see, and proceed.—Find bears before them, and at the same time the masts of a ship are discovered.—Push on, and at last assistance arriving, the bears are killed, and Captain Irvine takes Archy on board the “Kate,” the rest following.—Adventures of the “Kate”—shut up in the ice—short provisions.—Captain dies.—Ice opens, when sail is set, and the crew, enduring much suffering, the “Kate” arrives off Unst, an island of Shetland.—Archy, now truly repentant, writes to his mother, and when all on board have recovered, starts for home.—His arrival and reception.
When Archy awoke he was somewhat alarmed on finding that the hunter and his dogs had left the hut. The lamp was still burning, and a large piece of seal’s flesh lay on the floor. Archy hoped, therefore, that the Esquimaux’s intentions were friendly, and that he did not purpose to desert them altogether. Andrew, when he awoke, expressed his opinion that the hunter would certainly return. His and his companions’ eyes were still so painful, that having the means of procuring water they resolved to wait in the hut till their sight was restored, and then to try and make their way to the village of their new friend. That their confidence in his honesty was not misplaced, was proved by his return in the afternoon, when he and his dogs arrived, dragging another seal after them on a small sleigh, which he had probably before left at a distance.
He now intimated that his people at the village were in want of food, and that after eating and resting, he must go away to them; but he signified that he would soon again return; and as a proof of his good intentions, left them a large portion of the first seal that he had killed.
Long before dawn the next morning the hunter set off. That day, though one of suffering, was passed in thankfulness by the shipwrecked seamen. Their lives had been preserved, food had been supplied to them, and they might now hope, even if they could not reach the Danish settlements, to pass the winter in safety in the camp of the friendly natives.
Two days passed by, and the hunter did not return. The eyes of the three men were free from pain, and when they awoke after the third night of their sojourn in the hut, they could see clearly. Archy, with unwearied diligence, had tended to all their wants, and he had frequently gone out to look for the expected return of the hunter, whenever they had expressed anxiety on the subject. At length they agreed that if he did not appear that evening, to set out without waiting for him longer, as their supply of blubber was nearly exhausted, and without it they could not keep their lamp burning. The morning came; still the hunter did not appear. Packing up, therefore, the lamp with its wicks, and every particle of blubber they could scrape together, they again set out. They soon found it necessary, however, to tie some spare comforters round their heads, to shade their eyes from the glare of the sun, the pricking sensation, the prelude to snow-blindness, again quickly returning.
After travelling for some hours, they looked out anxiously for the huts of the Esquimaux they expected to see. The traces of their friend’s sledge and footsteps had been entirely obliterated by a fall of snow, so that they had not the benefit of them as a guide; still they went on. Frequently icebergs rose up in their course, and at length these became so numerous that they were completely bewildered among them. After a time they emerged again into a more open space, when Archy, whose quick eyes were ever on the alert, cried out that he saw three objects moving some way ahead.
“They are bears, I do believe,” he exclaimed, “and they seem as if they were digging into the snow with their snouts.” After going on a little further the rest agreed that he was right. Andrew got his rifle ready.
“If we attempt to run the creatures will follow—it’s their nature to do so. We must try and kill one of them, and frighten the others away. Show a bold front, friends, and we may yet escape their claws.”
While Andrew had been speaking Archy had cast his eyes westward.
“Look, look,” he exclaimed. “I see the masts of a ship rising up against the yellow sky, near where the sun has just gone down.”
Forgetting for the moment about the bears, the whole party turned their eyes in the direction Archy pointed.
“You are right, boy—praise heaven for it,” said Andrew. “Though my eyes are weak I see the masts clearly. She must have been caught in the floe before she could make her way into harbour for shelter. We may reach her this night, and we will try to give the bears the go-by without interfering with them.”
The thought of a friendly greeting from countrymen, and a warm cabin and wholesome food, after all their toils, raised the spirits of the weary seamen. They once more pushed forward, making a circuit to avoid the savage animals, and then directed their course towards the ship. The long twilight enabled them to keep the masts in sight for a considerable time, and they were then able to steer by a star, which shone forth just above the ship. They did not fail, however, very frequently, to turn their heads over their shoulders to ascertain whether they were pursued.
“If the bears track us, we must turn round and face them boldly,” said Andrew. “Ever meet Satan, and all spiritual foes in the same way, lad, and they will flee from you,” added the old man, putting his hand on Archy’s shoulder.
On and on they went, often stumbling over inequalities in the ice, which the increased darkness prevented them from perceiving. Still they struggled forward, hope urging them on. Although the ship could no longer be seen, they felt confident that she was before them, and that they must, if they persevered, reach her at last. The cold was intense, but, weary as they were, they dared not sit down lest their limbs might become benumbed, and might refuse to carry them forward. They knew, too, that the savage bears might be following in their track with stealthy steps, and might at any moment be close upon them. Hours seemed to pass away. It was impossible to calculate time. Their guiding star shone brightly from the sky; still as yet their straining eyes could not make out the looked for ship.
“We cannot now be far off from her,” observed Andrew, “for we have steered too straight a course to pass by her. Archy, you have the sharpest eyes among us, can’t you make her out, lad?”
“Yes, yes, I see her,” he suddenly exclaimed; “but her deck seems to be housed in, and snow covers the roof, and I took it to be a low iceberg. Now I can make out the masts and rigging rising above it—she cannot be more than a mile away.”
“Cheer up, friends, we will soon reach her then,” cried Andrew. “If we were to give a hearty shout, those on board would hear us.”
“I hope they may, and send us help,” exclaimed Saunders, “for here come the bears, and they will be upon us in another minute.”
On hearing this Andrew unslung his rifle, and turning round, observed a large white animal, scarcely to be distinguished from the snow, not forty paces off, stealing towards them. To fly towards the ship, close as they were to her, would have invited the bears to pursue at a faster speed. Facing their foes, they halted, as they proposed—the bears stopped also, sitting down on their haunches to watch their proceedings.
“Archy, run on, and shout as you go—the watch on deck may hear you, and assistance may be sent to us in case we fail to beat off the bears.”
Archy ran on as he was directed. At length he got the ship clearly in sight, but still she seemed a long, long way off. He stopped, however, and shouted with all his might. No reply came, but he heard behind him a cry, and then a shot fired. He knew that it must be from Andrew’s gun. Once more he pushed forward, though his legs were ready to sink beneath him. Just then the moon arose bright and full. He had stopped to give another shout, when, looking back to see if his friends were coming, he discovered, to his dismay, a bear stealing towards him. He remembered Andrew’s caution, not to fly, and bravely facing the animal, he clapped his hands together, shouting even louder than before, in the hopes of frightening it away. At that instant a hail came from the ship—he hailed in return. The bear stopped, apparently astonished at the strange sounds which met its ears. Directly afterwards another hail was heard, and turning his head for an instant, he caught sight of a party of men coming towards him from the ship. The bear seemed unwilling to encounter so many foes, and began slowly to retreat. In another minute Archy was surrounded by a number of men, shouting to him in well-known tones.
“My friends out there want your help,” said Archy, not stopping to explain who he was.
They all had arms in their hands—while some stopped to fire at the retreating bear, others run on in the direction indicated. Some of the bullets took effect, and the bear was seen to drop on the snow. While most of them dashed forward towards the wounded bear, one of them remained by Archy.
“Where do you come from, lad—who are you?” he asked. Archy, with a bounding heart, recognised the voice. It was that of Captain Irvine.
“I am Archy Hughson, sir, and Andrew Scollay, and David Saunders, and Foubister, the carpenter of a ship which took us on board, are out there—I hope the bears have not hurt them.”
“I trust not,” said the captain; “but come along, laddie, to the ship—tell me more as you go. You seem scarcely able to stand.”
Archy was, indeed, gasping for breath, and well nigh dropping from fatigue and excitement. The kind captain supporting him, they made their way toward the ship; but Archy, though he tried to speak, had lost all power of utterance. One of the other men came quickly to their assistance, and Archy was lifted on board, and placed in the captain’s cabin, under the care of Dr Sinclair. In a short time the rest of the party arrived, bringing Andrew and Foubister unhurt, though well nigh exhausted; but poor Saunders had been severely wounded by one of the bears, two of which had, however, been killed.
Andrew, on being carried below, soon somewhat recovered. His first act was to kneel down, when, lifting up his hands, he returned thanks to that all powerful and merciful God who had preserved him and his companions.
“Shipmates,” he said, as he observed the look of astonishment with which some of those who stood around regarded him. “Had you gone through the dangers we have encountered, and been preserved from them to reach the ship again, you would feel that it was not your own arm, or your own strength had saved you, but He, who not only takes care of the bodies of us sinful and ungrateful creatures, but is willing and ready to save our immortal souls alive.”
Archy remained for some days in a state of unconscious............