The Giant of the North: Pokings Round the Pole by R. M. Ballantyne (ereader android .TXT) 📖

“That’s true, Benjy. That’s true. You’re a sharp boy for your age. But don’t be disrespectful to your father, Ben; no good can ever come o’ that. Whatever you are, be respectful to your old father. Come, I’ll tell you about it now.”

It will have been observed by this time that little Benjamin Vane was somewhat free in his converse with his father, but it must not therefore be supposed that he was really insolent. All his freedom of speech was vented in good humour, and the Captain knew that. There was, indeed, a powerful bond not only of affection but of sympathy between the little delicate boy and the big strong man. They thoroughly understood each other, and between those who understand each other there may be much freedom without offence, as everybody knows.

“You must understand,” began the Captain, “that although the needle of the mariner’s compass is said to point to the north with its head and to the south with its tail, it does not do so exactly, because the magnetic poles do not coincide exactly with the geographical poles. There are two magnetic poles just as there are two geographical poles, one in the southern hemisphere, the other in the northern. D’ye understand!”

“Clear as daylight, father.”

“Well, Benjy, the famous Arctic discoverer, Sir James Ross, in 1832, discovered that the northern magnetic pole was situated in the island of Boothia Felix, in latitude 70 degrees 5 seconds and longitude 96 degrees 46 seconds West. It was discovered by means of an instrument called the dipping needle, which is just a magnetised needle made for dipping perpendicularly instead of going round horizontally like the mariner’s compass. A graduated arc is fitted to it so that the amount of dip at any place on the earth’s surface can be ascertained. At the magnetic equator there is no dip at all, because the needle being equally distant from the north and south magnetic poles, remains horizontal. As you travel north the needle dips more and more until it reaches the region of the north magnetic pole when it is almost perpendicular—pointing straight down.

“Now, it is only on a very few places of the earth’s surface that the horizontal needle points to the true north and south, and its deviation from the earth’s pole in its determination to point to the magnetic pole is called the variation of the compass. This variation is greater or less of course at different places, and must be allowed for in estimating one’s exact course. In our present explorations we have got so far beyond the beaten track of travel that greater allowance than usual has to be made. In fact we have got considerably to the north of the magnetic pole. At the same time we are a good way to the east’ard of it, so that when I see the compass with its letter N pointing to what I know to be the magnetic north, I take our geographical position into account and steer almost due east by compass, for the purpose of advancing due north. D’ye see?”

“I’m not so sure that I do, father. It seems to me something like the Irishman’s pig which you pull one way when you want him to go another. However, I’ll take your word for it.”

“That’s right, my boy; when a man can’t understand, he must act on faith, if he can, for there’s no forcing our beliefs, you know. Anyhow he must be content to follow till he does understand; always supposing that he can trust his leader.”

“I’m out of my depths altogether now, father. P’r’aps we’d better change the subject. What d’ye say to try a race with Leo? His boat seems to be overhauling us.”

“No, no, Ben; no racing. Let us advance into the great unknown north with suitable solemnity.”

“We appear to sail rather better than you do, uncle,” shouted Leo, as his boat drew near.

“That’s because you’re not so heavily-laden,” replied the Captain, looking back; “you haven’t got giants aboard, you see; moreover there’s one o’ you rather light-headed.”

“Hallo! uncle; evil communications, eh? You’d better change Benjy for Oblooria. She’s quite quiet, and never jokes. I say, may I go ahead of you?”

“No, lad, you mayn’t. Take a reef in your regulator, and drop into your proper place.”

Obedient to orders, Leo pulled the regulator or check-string until the kite’s position was altered so as to present less resistance to the wind, and dropped astern of the Faith, which was the name given by Benjy to his father’s boat, the other two being named respectively the Hope and the Charity.

The prosperous advance did not, however, last very long. Towards evening the three kites suddenly, and without any previous warning, began to dive, soar, flutter, and tumble about in a manner that would have been highly diverting if it had not been dangerous. This no doubt was the effect of various counter-currents of air into which they had flown. The order was at once given to haul on the regulators and coil up the towing lines. It was promptly obeyed, but before a few fathoms had been coiled in, the kites again became as steady as before, with this change, however, that they travelled in a north-westerly direction.

The value of the leeboards now became apparent.

These were hinged down the middle so as to fold and become small enough to stow in the bottom of each boat when not in use. When unfolded and hung over the side, they presented a surface of resistance to the water much greater than that of an ordinary boat’s keel, so that very little leeway indeed was made. By means of the steering-oar Captain Vane kept his boat advancing straight northward, while the kite was puffing in a north-westerly direction. The kite was thus compelled by the boat also to travel due north, though of course it did so in a sidelong manner.

Thus far the advance continued prosperously, the pace being but little checked and the course unaltered, but when, an hour or two later, the wind again shifted so as to carry the kites further to the west, the pace became much slower, and the leeway, or drift to leeward, considerable. Ultimately the wind blew straight to the west, and the boats ceased to advance. “This won’t do, uncle,” said Leo, who was close astern of the Faith, “I’m drifting bodily to leeward, and making no headway at all.”

“Down with the tops,—I mean, the kites,” shouted the Captain. “Pass the word to Alf.”

Accordingly, the kites were reeled in, the regulators being so pulled and eased off that they were kept just fluttering without tugging during the operation. When, however, they passed out of the wind-stratum into the region of calm which still prevailed immediately above the sea, the kites descended in an alarming manner, swaying to and fro with occasional wild swoops, which rendered it necessary to haul in on the lines and reel up with the utmost speed.

Captain Vane was very successful in this rather difficult operation. While he hauled in the line Benjy reeled it up with exemplary speed, and the kite was finally made to descend on the boat like a cloud. When secured the locking-cross was removed, the distending-rods were folded inwards, the restraining, or what we may term the waist-band was applied, and the whole affair was changed into a gigantic Mrs Gamp umbrella. Being placed in the bow of the boat, projecting over the water, it formed a not ungraceful though peculiar bowsprit, and was well out of the way.

Leo and Butterface were equally successful, but poor Alf was not so fortunate. The too eager pursuit of knowledge was the cause of Alf’s failure as has often been the case with others! He took on himself, as chief of his boat, the difficult and responsible task of hauling in the line,—which involved also the occasional and judicious manipulation of the regulating cord, when a sudden puff of wind should tend to send the kite soaring upwards with six or eight horse-power into the sky. To Ivitchuk was assigned the easy task of gathering in the “slack” and holding on to Alf if a sudden jerk should threaten to pull him overboard. Anders reeled up.

Just as the kite was passing out of the windy region above into the calm region below Alf beheld floating near the boat a beautiful, and to him entirely new, species of marine creature of the jelly-fish kind. With a wild desire to possess it he leaned over the boat’s edge to the uttermost and stretched out his left hand, while with his right he held on to the kite! Need we say that the kite assisted him?—assisted him overboard altogether, and sent him with a heavy plunge into the sea!

Ivitchuk dropped his line and stretched out both arms towards the spot where the “Kablunet” had gone down. Akeetolik roared. Anders howled, and dropped his reel. Left to itself, the kite, with characteristic indecision, made an awful swoop towards the North Pole with its right shoulder. Changing its mind, it then made a stupendous rush with its left to the south-east. Losing presence of mind it suddenly tossed up its tail, and, coming down head foremost, went with fatal facility into the deep sea.

When Alf rose and was dragged panting into the boat, his first glance was upwards,—but not in thankfulness for his preservation!

“Gone!” he groaned, rising to his feet.

But the kite was not gone. The word had barely left his lips when it rose half its length out of the water, and then fell, in melancholy inaptitude for further mischief, flat upon the sea.

“Anything damaged?” asked the Captain, as he and Leo rowed their boats towards the Charity.

“Nothing,” replied Alf with a guilty look, “the stick and things seem to be all right, but it has got awfully wet.”

“No matter,” said the Captain, laughing at Alf’s forlorn look, “the sun will soon dry it. So long as nothing is broken or torn, we’ll get on very well. But now, boys, we must go to work with oars. There must be no flagging in this dash for the Pole. It’s a neck-or-nothing business. Now, mark my orders. Although we’ve got four oars apiece, we must only work two at a time. I know that young bloods like you are prone to go straining yourselves at first, an’ then bein’ fit for nothing afterwards. We must keep it up steadily. Two in each boat will pull at a time for one hour, while the other two rest or sleep, and so on, shift about; till another breeze springs up. Don’t fold it up tight, Alf. Leave it pretty slack till it is dry, and then put on its belt.”

“Don’t you think we might have supper before taking to the oars?” suggested Leo.

“I second that motion,” cried Benjy.

“And I support it,” said Alf.

“Very good, get out the prog; an’ we’ll lay ourselves alongside, three abreast, as Nelson did at the Battle o’ the Nile,” said the Captain.

Their food was simple but sufficient. Pemmican—a solid greasy nutricious compound—was the foundation. Hard biscuit, chocolate, and sugar formed the superstructure. In default of fire, these articles could be eaten cold, but while their supply of spirits of wine lasted, a patent Vesuvian of the most complete and almost miraculous nature could provide a hot meal in ten minutes. Of fresh water they had a two-weeks’ supply in casks, but this was economised by means of excellent water procured from a pond in a passing berg—from which also a lump of clear ice had been hewn, wrapped in a blanket, and carried into the Captain’s boat as a supply of fresh water in solid form.

Laying the oars across the boats to keep them together, they floated thus pleasantly on the glassy sea, bathed in midnight sunshine. And while they feasted in comfort inexpressible—to the surprise, no doubt, of surrounding gulls and puffins—Benjamin Vane once again gave utterance to the