The World of Ice by R. M. Ballantyne (e novels to read online TXT) 📖

“I thought,” said Amos Parr, “that the Feejees were cannibals, and that whoever was wrecked or cast ashore on their coasts was killed and roasted, and eat up at once.”

“So ye’re right,” rejoined Buzzby; “but Providence sent the crew to one o’ the islands that had bin visited by a native Christian missionary from one o’ the other islands, and the people had gin up some o’ their worst practices, and wos thinkin’ o’ turnin’ over a new leaf altogether. So the crew wos spared, and took to livin’ among the natives, quite comfortable like. But they soon got tired and took to their boats agin, and left. Mrs Ellice, however, determined to remain and help the native Christians, till a ship should pass that way. For three years nothin’ but canoes hove in sight o’ that lonesome island; then, at last a brig came, and cast anchor offshore. It wos an Australian trader that had been blown out o’ her course on her way to England, so they took poor Mrs Ellice aboard, and brought her home—and that’s how it wos.”

Buzzby’s outline, although meagre, is so comprehensive that we do not think it necessary to add a word. Soon after he had concluded, the guests of the evening came in, and the conversation became general.

“Buzzby’s jollification”, as it was called in the village, was long remembered as one of the most interesting events that had occurred for many years. One of the chief amusements of the evening was the spinning of long yarns about the incidents of the late voyage, by men who could spin them well.

Their battles in the Polar Seas were all fought o’er again. The wondering listeners were told how Esquimaux were chased and captured; how walrus were lanced and harpooned; how bears were speared and shot; how long and weary journeys were undertaken on foot over immeasurable fields of ice and snow; how icebergs had crashed around their ship, and chains had been snapped asunder, and tough anchors had been torn from the ground, or lost; how schools had been set agoing and a theatre got up; and how, provisions having failed, rats were eaten—and eaten, too, with gusto. All this and a great deal more was told on that celebrated night—sometimes by one, sometimes by another, and sometimes, to the confusion of the audience, by two or three at once, and, not unfrequently, to the still greater confusion of story-tellers and audience alike, the whole proceedings were interrupted by the outrageous yells and turmoil of the two indomitable young Buzzbys, as they romped, in reckless joviality, with Dumps and Poker. But at length the morning light broke up the party, and stories of the World of Ice came to an end.

And now, reader, our tale is told. But we cannot close without a parting word in regard to those with whom we have held intercourse so long.

It must not be supposed that from this date everything in the affairs of our various friends flowed on in a tranquil, uninterrupted course. This world is a battle-field, on which no warrior finds rest until he dies; and yet, to the Christian warrior on that field, the hour of death is the hour of victory. “Change” is written in broad letters on everything connected with Time; and he who would do his duty well, and enjoy the greatest possible amount of happiness here, must seek to prepare himself for every change. Men cannot escape the general law. The current of their particular stream may long run smooth, but, sooner or later, the rugged channel and the precipice will come. Some streams run quietly for many a league, and only at the last are troubled. Others burst from their very birth on rocks of difficulty, and rush throughout their course in tortuous, broken channels.

So was it with the actors in our story. Our hero’s course was smooth. Having fallen in love with his friend Tom Singleton’s profession, he studied medicine and surgery, became an M.D., and returned to practise in Grayton, which was a flourishing sea-port, and, during the course of Fred’s career, extended considerably. Fred also fell in love with a pretty young girl in a neighbouring town, and married her. Tom Singleton also took up his abode in Grayton, there being, as he said, “room for two”. Ever since Tom had seen Isobel on the end of the quay, on the day when the Dolphin set sail for the Polar regions, his heart had been taken prisoner. Isobel refused to give it back unless he, Tom, should return the heart which he had stolen from her. This he could not do, so it was agreed that the two hearts should be tied together, and they two should be constituted joint guardians of both. In short, they were married, and took Mrs Bright to live with them, not far from the residence of old Mr Singleton, who was the fattest and jolliest old gentleman in the place, and the very idol of dogs and boys, who loved him to distraction.

Captain Ellice, having had, as he said, “more than his share of the sea,” resolved to live on shore, and, being possessed of a moderately comfortable income, he purchased Mrs Bright’s cottage on the green hill that overlooked the harbour and the sea. Here he became celebrated for his benevolence, and for the energy with which he entered into all the schemes that were devised for the benefit of the town of Grayton. Like Tom Singleton and Fred, he became deeply interested in the condition of the poor, and had a special weakness for poor old women, which he exhibited by searching up, and doing good to, every poor old woman in the parish. Captain Ellice was also celebrated for his garden, which was a remarkably fine one; for his flag-staff, which was a remarkably tall and magnificent one; and for his telescope, which constantly protruded from his drawing-room window, and pointed in the direction of the sea.

As for the others—Captain Guy continued his career at sea, as commander of an East Indiaman. He remained stout and true-hearted to the last, like one of the oak timbers of his own good ship.

Bolton, Saunders, Mivins, Peter Grim, Amos Parr, and the rest of them, were scattered in a few years, as sailors usually are, to the four quarters of the globe. O’Riley alone was heard of again. He wrote to Buzzby, “by manes of the ritin’ he had larn’d aboord the Dolfin,” informing him that he had forsaken the “say” and become a small farmer near Cork. He had plenty of murphies and also a pig—the latter “bein’,” he said, “so like the wan that belonged to his owld grandmother that he thought it must be the same wan comed alive agin, or its darter.”

And Buzzby—poor Buzzby—he, also, gave up the sea, much against his will, by command of his wife, and took to miscellaneous work, of which there was plenty for an active man in a seaport like Grayton. His rudder, poor man, was again (and this time permanently) lashed amidships, and whatever breeze Mrs Buzzby chanced to blow, his business was to sail right before it. The two little Buzzbys were the joy of their father’s heart. They were genuine little true-blues, both of them, and went to sea the moment their legs were long enough, and came home, voyage after voyage, with gifts of curiosities and gifts of money to their worthy parents.

Dumps resided during the remainder of his days with Captain Ellice, and Poker dwelt with Buzzby. These truly remarkable dogs kept up their attachment to each other to the end. Indeed, as time passed by, they drew closer and closer together, for Poker became more sedate, and, consequently, a more suitable companion for his ancient friend. The dogs formed a connecting-link between the Buzzby and Ellice families—constantly reminding each of the other’s existence, by the daily interchange of visits.

Fred and Tom soon came to be known as skilful doctors. Together they went through life respected by all who knew them—each year as it passed cementing closer and closer that undying friendship which had first started into being in the gay season of boyhood, and had bloomed and ripened amid the adventures, dangers, and vicissitudes of the World of Ice.