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

Alf did call, then and there, and the Eskimo stood and listened with bowed head and reverent look, until the poor youth had concluded his prayer with the name of Jesus.

The negro’s line of argument with Benjy was different and characteristically lower toned.

“You muss keep up de heart, Massa Benjy. Nobody nebber knows wot may come for to pass. P’r’aps Massa Leo he go to de Nort Pole by hisself. He was allers bery fond o’ takin’ peepil by surprise. Nebber say die, Massa Benjy, s’long’s der’s a shot in de locker.”

At any other time Benjy would have laughed at the poor cook’s efforts to console him, but he only turned away with a sigh.

Two days after that the Eskimos of Poloe were assembled on the beach making preparations to go off on a seal hunt.

“Is that a whale on the horizon or a walrus!” asked the Captain, touching Chingatok on the arm as they stood on the edge of the sea, ready to embark.

“More like a black gull,” said Benjy, “or a northern diver.”

Chingatok looked long and earnestly at the object in question, and then said with emphasis—“A kayak!”

“One of the young men returning from a hunt, I suppose,” said Alf, whose attention was aroused by the interest manifested by the surrounding Eskimos.

“Not so,” said Amalatok, who joined the group at the moment, “the man paddles like a man of Flatland.”

“What! one of your enemies?” cried the Captain, who, in his then state of depression, would have welcomed a fight as a sort of relief. Evidently Butterface shared his hopes, for he showed the whites of his eyes and grinned amazingly as he clenched his horny hands.

“Yes—our enemies,” said Amalatok.

“The advanced guard of the host,” said the Captain, heartily; “come, the sooner we get ready for self-defence the better.”

“Yis, dat’s de word,” said the negro, increasing his grin for a moment and then collapsing into sudden solemnity; “we nebber fights ’cep’ in self-defence—oh no—nebber!”

“They come not to attack,” said Chingatok quietly. “Flatlanders never come except in the night when men sleep. This is but one man.”

“Perhaps he brings news!” exclaimed Benjy, with a sudden blaze of hope.

“Perhaps,” echoed Alf, eagerly.

“It may be so,” said Chingatok.

It was not long before the question was set at rest. The approaching kayak came on at racing speed. Its occupant leaped on shore, and, panting from recent exertion, delivered his thrilling message.

“Prisoners in Flatland,” said the Captain at the council of war which was immediately summoned, “but alive and well. Let us be thankful for that good news, anyhow; but then, they ask us to help them, quickly. That means danger.”

“Yes, danger!” shouted Oolichuk, who, at the thought of Oblooria in the hands of his foes, felt an almost irresistible desire to jump at some of the youths of his own tribe, and kill them, by way of relieving his feelings.

“Rest content, Oolichuk,” cried Amalatok, with a horrible grinding of his teeth; “we will tear out their hearts, and batter in their skulls, and—”

“But,” resumed the Captain hastily, “I do not think the danger so great. All I would urge is that we should not delay going to their rescue—”

“Ho! huk! hi!” interrupted the whole band of assembled warriors, leaping up and going through sundry suggestive actions with knives and spears.

“Does my father wish me to get the kayaks ready?” asked Chingatok, who, as usual, retained his composure.

“Do, my son. Let plenty of blubber be stowed in them, and war-spears,” said the old chief; “we will start at once.”

The promptitude with which these northern Eskimos prepared for war might be a lesson to the men of civilised communities. We have already said that the sun had by that time begun to set for a few hours each day. Before it had reached the deepest twilight that night a hundred and fifty picked warriors, with their kayaks and war material, were skimming over the sea, led by the fiery old chief and his gigantic but peace-loving son. Of course Captain Vane, Benjy, Alphonse Vandervell, and Butterface accompanied them, but none of the women were allowed to go, as it was expected that the war would be a bloody one. These, therefore, with the children, were left in charge of a small body of the big boys of the tribe, with the old men.

The weather was fine, the sea smooth, and the arms of the invading host strong. It was not long before the sea that separated Poloe Island from Flatland was crossed.

Towards sunset of a calm and beautiful day they sighted land. Gently, with noiseless dip of paddle, they glided onward like a phantom fleet.

That same evening Leo and Oblooria sat by the couch of Grabantak, nursing him. The injury received by the chief from the whale had thrown him into a high fever. The irritation of enforced delay on his fiery spirit had made matters worse, and at times he became delirious. During these paroxysms it required two men to hold him down, while he indulged in wild denunciations of his Poloe foes, with frequent allusions to dread surgical operations to be performed on the body of Amalatok—operations with which the Royal College of Surgeons is probably unacquainted. Leo, whose knowledge of the Eskimo tongue was rapidly extending, sought to counteract the patient’s ferocity by preaching forgiveness and patience. Being unsuccessful, he had recourse to a soporific plant which he had recently discovered. To administer an overdose of this was not unnatural, perhaps, in a youthful doctor. Absolute prostration was not the precise result he had hoped for, but it was the result, and it had the happy effect of calming the spirit of Grabantak and rendering him open to conviction.

Fortunately the Flatlanders were on the look-out when the men of Poloe drew near. One of the Flatland braves was returning from a fishing expedition at the time, saw the advancing host while they were yet well out at sea, and came home at racing speed with the news.

“Strange that they should come to attack us,” said Teyma to Leo at the council of war which was immediately called. “It has always, up to this time, been our custom to attack them.”

“Not so strange as you think,” said Anders, who now, for the first time, mentioned the sending of the message to Poloeland.

Black looks were turned on the interpreter, and several hands wandered towards boots in search of daggers, when the prime minister interfered.

“You did not well, Unders, to act without letting us know,” he said with grave severity. “We must now prepare to meet the men of Poloe, whether they come as friends or foes. Let the young men arm. I go to consult with our chief.”

“You must not consult with Grabantak,” said Leo firmly. “He lies limp. His backbone has no more strength than a piece of walrus line. His son must act for him at present.”

“Boo!” exclaimed one of the warriors, with a look of ineffable contempt, “Koyatuk is big enough, but he is brainless. He can bluster and look fierce like the walrus, but he has only the wisdom of an infant puffin. No, we will be led by Teyma.”

This sentiment was highly applauded by the entire council, which included the entire army, indeed the whole grown-up male part of the nation; so that Koyatuk was deposed on the spot, as all incompetents ought to be, and one of the best men of Flatland was put in his place.

“But if I am to lead you,” said the premier firmly, “it shall be to peace, not to war!”

“Lead us to what you like; you have brains,” returned the man who had previously said “boo!” “We know not what is best, but we can trust you.”

Again the approval was unanimous.

“Well, then, I accept the command until my chief’s health is restored,” said Teyma, rising. “Now, the council is at an end. To your huts, warriors, and get your spears ready; and to your lamps, girls. Prepare supper for our warriors, and let the allowance of each be doubled.”

This latter command caused no small degree of surprise, but no audible comment was made, and strict obedience was rendered.

Leo returned to Grabantak’s hut, where he found that fiery chief as limp as ever, but with some of the old spirit left, for he was feebly making uncomfortable references to the heart, liver, and other vital organs of Amalatok and all his band.

Soon afterwards that band came on in battle array, on murderous deeds intent. The Flatlanders assembled on the beach to receive them.

“Leave your spears on the ground behind you,” shouted Teyma to his host; “advance to the water’s edge, and at my signal, throw up your arms.”

“They have been forewarned,” growled Amalatok, grinding his teeth in disappointment, and checking the advance of his fleet by holding up one hand.

“No doubt,” said Captain Vane, who, with Benjy, Alf, and Butterface, was close to the Poloe chief in one of the india-rubber boats, “no doubt my young countryman, having sent a message, expected us. Surely—eh! Benjy, is not that Leo standing in front of the rest with another man?”

The Captain applied his binocular telescope to his eyes as he spoke.

“Yes, it’s him—thank God! and I see Anders too, quite plainly, and Oblooria!”

“Are they bound hand and foot?” demanded Amalatok, savagely.

“No, they are as free as you are. And the Eskimos are unarmed, apparently.”

“Ha! that is their deceit,” growled the chief. “The Flatlanders were always sly; but they shall not deceive us. Braves, get ready your spears!”

“May it not be that Leo has influenced them peacefully, my father?” suggested Chingatok.

“Not so, my son,” said the chief savagely. “Grabantak was always sly as a white fox, fierce as a walrus, mean as a wolf, greedy as a black gull, contemptible as—”

The catalogue of Grabantak’s vices was cut short by the voice of Teyma coming loud and strong over the sea.

“If the men of Poloe come as friends, let them land. The men of Flatland are about to feed, and will share their supper. If the men of Poloe come as foes, still I say let them land. The braves of Flatland have sharpened their spears!”

Teyma threw up both hands as he finished, and all his host followed suit.

For a moment or two the Poloese hesitated. They still feared deception. Then the voice of Leo was heard loud and clear.

“Why do you hesitate? come on, uncle, supper’s getting cold. We’ve been waiting for you a long time, and are all very hungry!”

This was received with a shout of laughter by the Englishmen, high above which rose a wild cheer of joy from Benjy. Amalatok swallowed his warlike spirit, laid aside his spear, and seized his paddle. Chingatok gave the signal to advance, and, a few minutes later, those warriors of the north—those fierce savages who, probably for centuries, had been sworn hereditary foes—were seated round the igloe-lamps, amicably smearing their fingers and faces with fat, as they feasted together on chops of the walrus and cutlets of the polar bear.