Mutiny! Most of the crew carrying the greater part of the provisions, set off without the others.—Proposals for pursuit, but not carried out, and at last the remainder commence their journey across the ice, meeting with great difficulties.—The captain becomes ill, but is cheered by Andrew.—He at length dies, after Andrew has placed before him the truth, which he accepts.—He is buried in a snow tomb.
Archy was awakened by hearing one of the officers, who had gone out of the tent, exclaim, “Why, what have become of the boats?” The rest of the inmates of the tents were quickly on foot. They looked around. Far away in the distance two dark spots could be seen on the ice. Andrew and several others ran to the tent of the mutineers—it was empty. The fire had burnt a hole in the ice and disappeared. Had it not been for those objects far off they might have supposed that the sleepers had gone in with it and been drowned. The provisions were next examined—the packages prepared for travelling had greatly diminished. Several, indignant at being thus deserted, proposed setting off in pursuit of the fugitives.
“They have fire-arms with them, and you will not get them to come back, lads,” said the captain, who had come out of his tent.
In spite of his warnings, and the advice of Andrew, who urged that it was better to let them go, a number of men, and two of the officers, started away, vowing that they would bring back the mutineers, and punish them for their treachery.
At first, the party thus deserted seemed inclined to give way to despair, and Archy more than ever regretted that he had not warned his friends of the intended treachery.
“Come along, lads, to the wreck,” exclaimed Andrew. “Perhaps we may find another boat, which we may be able to repair, and some more provisions to replace those carried off.”
Thus appealed to, the carpenter, with several men, set off with Andrew to the wreck, Archy accompanying his friend. After climbing over a number of huge masses of ice, they made their way to the opposite floe, which was now firmly united to the one it had struck. Here they found a quantity of the wreck scattered about, as well as several casks of meat and biscuits, and wedged between two slabs, the smallest boat, which had hung at the stern. The carpenter, on examining her, expressed his hopes that by fastening canvas round her, he could make her float sufficiently to enable them to pass from one floe to another, should they meet any open channels in their course. This discovery raised their spirits. The party immediately hastened back to their companions with the news. It was agreed that they should at once move across to the floe, with the tents and provisions, and forming a new encampment, go on with the work of preparing the sledges. Frequently as they went backwards and forwards, they looked out for the return of the party who had gone in pursuit of the mutineers. The latter had got far out of sight before they could have been overtaken. What had become of the pursuers no one could say. Some supposed that the two parties had united and gone on together, while others fancied that they had fought, and that those who had been defeated had been left alone on the ice, while the victors had pushed on with the boats.
The whole day was occupied in moving to the new encampment, and it was nearly dark before their tents were erected and other preparations made for passing the night. The wind had latterly increased greatly, and clouds had been collecting to the north. Scarcely had they got under shelter when the snow began to fall heavily, and the sharp wind swept across the icy plain with terrific force.
“Archy, we may be thankful that we are not with those poor fellows who deserted us,” observed Andrew as they sat together round the fire in their tent. “It will be a mercy if any of them escape even if they reached the open water before nightfall, and it’s my opinion that they will not have done that.”
“They deserve their fate, whatever it may be,” growled out one of the men.
“Ah, friend, we all deserve far more than we receive,” said Andrew. “If God was to treat us according to our merits, the best of us could only look for punishment. Let us pray that He will have mercy on them as well as on us. Oh, mates, I wish you could all understand the great love which God has for us poor sinners. We exposed ourselves of our own free choice to the danger and hardship we have to endure, but He in His mercy offers us free salvation and eternal happiness for our souls. He gave Jesus Christ to suffer instead of us, and it’s our own fault if we do not accept His precious gift. All He asks us to do is to trust to His love, and believe that Jesus died for us and that His blood washes away all our sins.”
Several of Andrew’s companions listened with deep earnestness to his words, and on that bleak floe, and amid those arctic snows, believed to the salvation of their souls.
All night long the wind swept by them, the snow fell faster and faster, but they heeded not the tempest. A bright light had burst upon them, and they could look forward with hope to the future, trusting to that God of love and mercy whom they had hitherto only known as a stern and severe judge.
When morning broke all hands set to work to clear away the snow, which had covered up the boat and everything left outside the tents. The wind, however, had ceased, and they were able to go on with their labours, and by the evening the sledges were completed and the boat prepared and placed on runners. They were then loaded, that the party might be ready to start the following morning on their journey. Twice during the day, Andrew with several of the other men had gone over to the old encampment to ascertain if any of those who had deserted them had come back. They cast their eyes in vain over the wide snow-covered plain,—not a trace of a human being could be seen. It was too probable that all had perished. More than half the ship’s company had thus been lost.
The night was passed in comparative comfort. They had well-formed tents, abundance of bedding, and ample fires. All knew that in future the case would be very different. The sledges were chiefly loaded with provisions. They were obliged to reduce their tents to the smallest possible size, and they could carry but a limited supply of fuel. There were five sledges in all, each drawn by four men, while six men were harnessed to the boat, in which the old captain, who was unable to walk, was placed. Andrew joined the latter party, and Archy, on account of his youth, was excused from dragging a sledge,—he, however, carried his blankets and some provisions on his back, each man being also loaded in the same way. The snow having partially melted under the still hot rays of the sun, had again frozen, and had filled up all inequalities in the ice. This enabled the party to drag the sledges along during the first day without difficulty. They had, however, to make frequent circuits to avoid the hummocks, which in some places were very numerous. They calculated by nightfall that they had advanced nearly twelve miles on their journey towards the coast. The uneven appearance of the ice beyond them, interspersed in many places with huge icebergs, warned them that in future they could not hope to advance so rapidly.
Hitherto they had not suffered much from cold, but that night, as they lay in their tents with the small fires which their limited supply of fuel allowed them to keep up, they were nearly frozen. Andrew several times remembering the advantage he had before gained from taking exercise, got up and ran about to warm himself. Those who followed his example awoke refreshed and fit for work, whereas those who had remained quiet all the night, found their limbs stiff and their feet and hands frozen, and it was not till after, with the help of their companions, they had moved about and undergone great pain, that they were able to proceed. Some, indeed, had suffered so much, that they entreated to be left to die rather than undergo the hardships they would have to endure. Andrew urged them to arouse themselves.
“It is our duty, lads, to straggle on as long as we can. God may think fit to try us, but let us trust in Him and He may find a way for us at last to escape, though we are too blind to see it,” he observed.
His exhortations produced a good effect, and once more they proceeded on their journey. The old captain had suffered the most, and it seemed very probable that he would be unable to hold out many days longer. Andrew seeing his condition, frequently spoke to him, and though hitherto he had turned scornfully away, he now willingly listened to the words the faithful Christian uttered.
“Oh!” he exclaimed at length, “I wish that I had heard you before. It is too late now, I have been a terrible sinner, God can never pardon so bad a man as I am.”
“Oh, sir!” exclaimed Andrew, “Jesus Christ came into the world to save sinners. He saved the thief on the cross, He saved the jailor at Philippi. The blood of Jesus Christ cleanseth from all sin. He says, ‘Though your sins be as scarlet they shall be as white as snow, though they be red like crimson they shall be as wool.’”
This was said while they were stopping to take their mid-day meal.
The old captain raised himself up and grasped Andrew’s hand.
“Do you really speak the truth to me?” he exclaimed.
“I repeat what God says, sir, and He cannot lie,” answered Andrew. “Believe in the Lord Jesus Christ and thou shalt be saved.”
“I do, I do,” cried the old man. “But oh! what would I now give had I known this in my youth. What years of wickedness and misery it would have saved me.”
“Ah, sir! there are thousands upon thousands who may say that,” replied Andrew. “Archy, you hear the captain’s words. Don’t forget them, boy. If God in His mercy allows you to return home in safety, repeat them to your young companions, and urge them to ‘seek the Lord while He may be found.’ You may thus render them a service for which they will have cause to thank you through eternity.”
“I will try,” said Archy humbly, “but it is difficult to speak to others.”
“Pray for the aid of God’s Holy Spirit, and He will enable you to do it,” said Andrew.
“I will try,” repeated Archy, for he had discovered his own weakness. Through that discovery alone can strength be obtained.
The shipwrecked party again pushed on, the party keeping ahead. Some of the men had begun to complain that the boat detained them. They supposed that the ice was attached throughout to the mainland, and believed that they could do without her. The captain tried to persuade them that they were mistaken, but they had lost their respect for him, and declared that they knew better. Andrew thought the captain was right, and entreated them to listen to his advice. Their replies showed that they were bent on pushing on. The worthy carpenter, James Foubister by name, also a Shetlander, sided with Andrew, and promised not to desert the old captain. Their example influenced most of the other men attached to the boat, who agreed, should the rest of the party do as they proposed, to remain with them. By exerting themselves to the utmost they overtook the sledge parties soon after they had encamped. Andrew again spoke earnestly to his companions, pointing out to them the danger they would ran by separating, and he hoped at length that they had abandoned their design.
The next day they went on as before. The cold was increasing, and except when they were in active exercise, they felt it severely. The old captain especially, from being unable to move, suffered greatly, and was rapidly sinking. Andrew, whenever the party stopped, acted the part of a true Christian, and was by his side, endeavouring to console and cheer him with the blessed promises of the gospel. What other comfort could he have afforded? The old man felt its unspeakable value, and after his voice had lost the power of utterance, holding Andrew’s hand, he signed to him to stoop down and speak them in his ear, and so he died,—with a peaceful expression in his countenance, which told of the sure and certain hope he had gone to realise. Andrew and the carpenter proposed carrying on the captain’s body to bury it on shore, but the rest objected, as causing them unnecessary labour. A snow tomb was therefore built, in which the old man’s body was placed, and there they left him, out on that wild frozen ocean, where many of England’s bravest sons rest from their toils. Happy are those who have died as he died, trusting in the Lord. The men were too much engrossed with their own sufferings to mourn his loss, but few failed, when the next morning they started on their journey, to cast a glance at the tomb. “Poor old man, he is better off than we are,” was the expression uttered by most of them.
The fatigue of dragging the sledges over the rough ice was now so great, that some of the men purposed leaving their tents and the remainder of their fuel behind, and the officers had much difficulty in making them see the folly of such a proceeding. As they advanced, not only large hummocks, but vast icebergs became numerous, among which they were frequently enveloped, and many a circuit had to be made to avoid them.
The day after the captain’s death it began to snow heavily. The sledges were as usual ahead, still Andrew and his party managed to proceed with the boat. The snow-storm increasing in density, they at length lost sight of their companions. For some time they followed up their tracks, but these were gradually obliterated by the falling snow. Still they went on, till they found themselves at the base of an iceberg, but not a trace was visible to show whether the party ahead had made their way round by the north or south end. As any delay would have increased the difficulty of overtaking them, they pushed on, taking a southerly direction.
Having doubled the berg, they saw a clear space before them, but though the snow had ceased, the sledge parties were nowhere visible.
The captain’s rifle had been saved. Andrew fired it in the hopes that the signal might be heard, but no reply came to their listening ears. Once more they went on, but their progress was slow and tedious.