Chapter III: First Adventures on the Ice

When men have been at sea for months and months, catching hardly e’er a blink of the shore, and seeing day by day only the faces and forms of their shipmates, or exchanging passing signals with some other ocean wanderer like the vessel on which they stand, any unusual sight serves to excite them and render them happy for the time being.

But this great iceberg was far indeed from a usual sight. How it had become detached from the vast sea-wall far farther south and floated northwards, almost into the latitude of Kerguelen itself, was, of course, a matter of mere conjecture. The currents of the oceans and the winds had doubtless drifted it hither and thither, for months, if not years; seas had beaten against its sheer and lofty sides, and hollowed strange arches therein; but the everlasting snows that covered it, and rose into cones and peaks high above, were probably as white now as, or even whiter than, when it first broke loose and became a rover on the ocean’s breast. And the very currents that had wafted it thither might in time carry it south again, to join its fellows, and tell the strange story of its wanderings and all the marvels it had seen.

The description of an iceberg of this size, or of any size, in fact, is one of the most difficult and unsatisfactory tasks that an author can attempt.

This one--this vast “gomeril” of ice and snow--might well have been taken for an island at first sight. For it was fully a mile in length, presenting to the astonished eyes of the _Walrus’s_ people a long, glittering wall of blue and violet fully two hundred feet in height. The white hummocks towered far back and above the cold cliff edge. At one side it shelved slowly down towards the sea-level in a long cape, or tongue, and upon this, if anywhere, it would be possible to land.

When the _Walrus_ had ventured so near that the hills above disappeared, and only the gleaming sides were visible, glittering in the spring sunshine, an order was given to stop ship, and not one whaler only, but two, were called away to “board” the mysterious iceberg, as the spectioneer phrased it.

The sea was very calm and blue, and only a longwaved swell was visible on its clear surface, a swell which, when it rushed into the caves and broke into foam in the darkness, elicited ever and anon a longdrawn moan or roar--a deep diapason, in fact, a musical blending of every note of an octave, from this mighty organ on which Father Neptune himself was playing and to which he sang.

This marvellous sea-song, however, melted away almost into silence as the boats reached the outlying tongue of ice on which they were to be drawn up.

It must not be supposed that the scene presented to our heroes, as they were being rowed towards the island-iceberg, was one of desolation.

The sun above them was shining to-day with unusual splendour and glittering on the ocean, which was a beautiful study in brightest blue and silver. High in the air circled and screamed flocks of beautiful sea-gulls, among which were cormorants and skuas, and many a bird resembling those to be met with in the far-off regions around the Northern pole.

Away to the eastward a whale had revealed his black back and head, and the steam from his blowholes rose like fountains into the sky. Farther off was another, and many strange seals raised their shoulders high above the water, to gaze with liquid eyes resplendent, and wonder who or what they might be that were thus invading their lonely and silent domains.

Some of these very seals--chiefly sea-leopards they were--had landed on the ice-foot to slumber in the sunshine.

As the first boat, which contained Ingomar and our boys, swept round towards the landing-place, they noticed to their astonishment that the whole brae-side of the monster berg was covered with what at first sight appeared to be a crowd of daintily dressed schoolboys in long black coats, orange neckties, black caps, and waistcoats of dazzling white. These were all in motion, and were bobbing and bowing to each other or shaking hands as they moved about for all the world like people in a garden-party.

Only these were not people, but king penguins. They are just about the drollest birds, taking them all round, that there are on the surface of the earth or on the face of the waters thereof.

Penguins are of several species, the largest and rarest being what are called emperor penguins, and stand about four feet high. I say _stand_, because they are so built that walking on one end or resting statue-like on their tails suits them best. The flippers of these are about fifteen inches long, and, when not in use, hang down by their sides in a very awkward-like manner. Their beaks are of great strength and length, and they know how to use them if you interfere too much with them.

I have never known an emperor penguin or a king penguin--next in size to his imperial majesty--have the slightest respect for human beings. They never think of running away if you go amongst them. They cannot fly, because they have no real wings. But they can waddle, and they can paddle either on the snow or in the water.

When the ground on which these strange birds are travelling all in a row is somewhat rough, they cannot do more than about a mile an hour; even this seems very serious work for them. But when they get among soft or smooth snow, down they flop on their breasts, out go the flippers, and they toboggan along over the surface with great speed.

In the water, above or below it, they dart along at the rate of knots. I believe that if the sharks want a nice bit of penguin to eke out a dinner of small fish, they have to swim exceedingly fast to find it.

Sharks, however, are not quite so common in these far Southern seas as they are about the Polar regions of the North. Food is scarcer, and this fact easily accounts for their absence.

* * * * *

When the boats had been called away to proceed to the examination of that great berg, it was not only the officers and crew who felt unwonted exhilaration, but every animal on board as well. The Eskimo dogs happened to be up having their run at the time, as usual under the supervision of the honest collie Wallace; while Nick and Nora stood proudly aloof on the quarter-deck.

“You and I, Nora,” said Nick, seeming to talk to his wife with eyes and tail, “shan’t mingle with that noisy gang. I pity Wallace, who has charge of such savages.”

“Aren’t they calling away a boat?” said Nora in the same language.

“They’ve just called away two,” replied Nick; “and we’ve got to stand by to get on board as quickly as anybody. I mean to stretch my little legs on the snow, anyhow.”

The sledge-dogs were barking with joy, and vaulting and leaping over each other, a perfect whirlwind of happiness.

They were convinced in their own minds that they were back again in Greenland, and would soon be landed to live happy ever after. Even the Shetland ponies stretched long necks towards the iceberg. They snuffed something unusual, anyhow, and felt that something was going to happen.

But the behaviour of the bears was strangest of all. I believe that long before the berg was sighted, these yellow-white monsters were aware of its presence on the horizon.

They became unusually restive, walking rapidly up and down their cage, and tossing their heads in the air.

There was none too much room in their quarters, so, of course, they got in each other’s way. Gruff was a good-hearted bear, and kind even to his dog companions, but he knew he was king of that cage, and conducted himself according. If their language of eyes and gestures could be translated into English, it would be as follows:--

“I’m certain,” Gruff said to Growley--“I’m certain, my dear, we are near home at last, and won’t I be glad, just! I’m longing for a bit of fresh seal-steak.”

“And so am I,” said Growley.

“And so am I,” said Grumpey, yawning.

Gruff slued smartly round, and landed Grumpey a blow that sent him sprawling on the deck.

“Who asked your opinion, eh? Can’t you learn better manners than interfere when your king and queen are talking?”

“Which I didn’t mean no harm,” whimpered Grumpey.

“Hold your tongue, sir! You’re not to answer; you’re not to wink even, when I speak. Take that, and that, and that.”

And Gruff whacked Grumpey all round the cage, and made him sit quietly in a corner with his consort Meg.

“As I was saying,” said the king, “when that impudent rascal interrupted me, we must be near home, and I’m going on shore to see how matters stand, as soon’s I get half a chance.”

“Oh, you’re never going to leave _me_!” cried Growley.

“My dear wife, never! How could such a thing enter your head? I’ll come back when--when--when I’ve had a look round.”

Gruff was as good as his word, and hardly had the boats been hauled up on the sea-foot of the iceberg than, in the stillness of the morning, the sound of a mighty plash was heard, followed by shouting and hallooing. Gruff had escaped, and was sturdily ploughing his way shorewards.

Gruff could have swum twenty miles through the sea, and been just as calm and self-possessed as he was when he hauled himself, hand over hand, up out of the water.

He shook himself, and gallons of spray flew in all directions. He shook himself again and again, and then he was ready for a romp.

He gave vent to a coughing roar that made the welkin ring--a roar that was echoed back from the ice-peaks above, and caused the very boats to shake.

It was a joy-shout, however, and then his antics commenced. They were somewhat ungainly, it is true, for he tumbled on his back, he stood on end, first on his hind legs, then on his head, then he went shuffling off in search of a seal with the two Newfoundlands, who could move much quicker than he, racing round and round him, and barking for joy. No seal was to be found, but Gruff smote, first one king penguin, then another. They lay dead on the snow, the air full of their beautiful feathers. These birds were nice eating, and Gruff made a hearty meal off them, and licked his great chops with satisfaction.

He seemed very happy and contented after this, and lay down in the sun to sleep, while our heroes went prospecting round and over this wondrous island of ice.

When the boys sat down at last on the lee-side of the iceberg to rest and enjoy a sun-bath, what impressed them most, I think, was the intensity of the silence.

There was not a sound to be heard save the lapping of the waves against the ice-cliffs, and the strange cries of the penguins, which, although the birds were fully half a mile off, could be most distinctly heard. No one talked save in subdued tones. To have rudely broken the holy silence would have seemed something akin to sacrilege.

Beyond the jagged snow-ridge was the dark rippling sea--wondrously blue to-day--while high above the sky itself looked like another ocean, the clouds like bergs of snow-clad ice.

“On such a day as this,” said Ingomar, “what a pleasure it is even to live and have one’s being!”

“Isn’t it just like being in another world?” cried Charlie, enthusiastically.

“Ay, lad, ay, and you are already coming under the glamour of the ice-spirit. The influence is felt in the seas around the North Pole, where you’ve been so long; but old sailors have told me that it is far more perceptible down here.”

“The very dogs appear to feel it. Look, both Nick and Nora are sound asleep!”

“No one,” he added, “can understand the glamour that steals over one in these regions. It is usually ascribed to a species of magnetism which affects the mind, the very soul itself, with a gentle, contented languor, which is nothing if it be not happiness. For sailors, who have once experienced it, will return again and again to the seas of ice, and brave dangers cheerfully that the bravest mariners of other oceans would hesitate to face.”

“Is it the silence, I wonder,” said Walt, “that makes one drowsy? I could sleep now.”

“It is the silence, Walt, but not that alone. For we are breathing the purest air in all the wide, wide world. Besides, though we cannot perceive it, the whole of this great island of ice is for ever gently rising and falling on the Antarctic swell.

“But now, boys, what about returning?”

“Sit yet a little longer,” pleaded Charlie. “I like to fancy that we are Crusoes, just we three, or that there is nobody in the world but ourselves and the dogs.”

“Are we going to shoot some specimens of gulls and penguins?” said Walt. “We have our guns. Isn’t it a pity not to use them?”

“No; rather would it be a pity if we did. It is nearly the end of October now, Walt. It is springtime, or almost, in these regions. Why, then, should we disturb the happiness of the feathered race? It seems to me that a curse would follow us in all our cruising if we stained the pure white surface of our first iceberg with the blood of even one of God’s beautiful birds.”

“I fear Gruff has no such romantic scruples,” said Charlie. “For here he comes shuffling down towards us; and with his great chest bedabbled with gore, he does look a very disreputable person indeed.”

Gruff certainly did, and he was rather flustered too, for presently round a neighbouring hummock came Slap-dash himself and a couple of Yak-Yaks.

Gruff was wanted, and didn’t like the idea of going on board just yet.

But more than this, for when the beautiful bear made up his mind not to do a thing, it took a good deal of coaxing to cause him to alter his determination.

Though no one on the ice knew it, the ship had been brought as near to the ice as possible with safety, for under the water a berg is usually four times as large as the portion exposed.

Slap-dash tried all the persuasion possible, but Gruff, although headed off by the Newfoundlands, refused to be wheedled.

Even the dogs did not dare to go too near.

“I advise you to keep at a respectable distance,” Gruff seemed to say. “One touch of my little foot would bury you both in the snow, and you’d never bark again in this world.”

“I’m not going off for hours yet,” he told Slap-dash; and away he scampered to discuss another penguin.

To have attempted force might have led to an accident, and so at long last all hands returned to the boat, and rowed away towards the ship, dogs and all.

Gruff was close to the sea now, and staring after them.

“Oh,” he said to himself, “if that’s your little game, here is for after you. I can’t forget my poor dear wife Growley.”

He leapt into the sea.

Now, when a snow-bear takes to the water, he swims with terrible strength and speed.

To their consternation, they could soon perceive that Gruff was gaining on them, and would undoubtedly attempt to scramble on board, and so capsize the boat.

“Give way, men!” shouted Ingomar. “Pull for dear life!”

A whaler is not a racing-boat, but the sailors made her fly through the water for all that, and all in time they gained the ship’s side and got on board.

Next moment Gruff was alongside also, and on board too. He was so glad to see his wife again that he promptly knocked her into the lee-scuppers.

Then the two had a stand-up fight or a terrible wrestling match.

But bears are like the Lowland Scots, and biting and scratching is their method of making love.

* * * * *

Having made all the observations needed, the good ship once more pursued her way eastwards and by north towards her destination.