The world is concerned with my bachelor status more than my wealth.
Time to get a fake date to shut themup.
There’s no one better for the job thanmy ex-girlfriend.
I know everything about her, every curve, every sigh, every way to make her blush.
Even though we have a hard time getting along, the tensionadds the right amount ofheat inmy life.
With that in place, I can focus on my next billion-dollar luxury project.
Until my father goes missing. No way in hell he would miss out onthe openingofour next venture.
Andit’s far worse thanhimskippingtownfor a bit offun. A ransom call sends us all in a panic, and my fake fling is the only person I want to cling to.
DEDICATION
To my right-handwo-man—Mary Wolney. I couldn’t have kept allthe details ofour belovedBancroft Billionaire Brothers series incheck without you. After allthese years, it’s stillyoukeepingme straight andsane! Love youbigtime.
<3 Ali
Introduction
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We do exclusive giveaways, facebook parties, Christmas cards, event invites and sneak previews for this amazing group.
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CHAPTER 1
REESE
It was the highlight of my career thus far. I took a moment to admire the beautiful building standing tall before me in allits glory. It was a masterpiece,ifI didsay so myself.
I did that. I made that. Obviously, not with my own two hands, but it was my baby. I conceived it and worked with the architects andengineers every stepof the way. Our baby was almost ready for her bigreveal.
“Sir! Reese Bancroft!”
I turned when I heard my name being shrieked from just beyond the tape keeping the excited press on the other side. I smiled and waved and hoped it would be enough. I wasn’t ready for questions from the peanut gallery just yet. I had a selected group of press I was going to be meeting with for the ribbon cutting. They were handpicked by me because they tendedto give me goodpress.
“Reese,didyoudo it? Are youthe father ofJana’s child?”
I rolled my eyes and walked away. The rumors would not stop. Every morning I woke up, I was being accused of something else with a woman I took to dinner one time. One time andI couldn’t get away fromthe gossipthat surrounded the A-list actress.
I wasn’t going to let that nonsense ruin this moment. “Have you seen my father?” I asked Josh. He was my pseudo-assistant. I told myself I didn’t need someone
assisting me, but I did. I was not Superman. I had a full plate andI seemedto be addingmore to it.
“Not yet,” he answered. “I’ve got the press in the lounge. I’m making sure they’re kept happy with free drinks, but we needto get started.”
“I’ll call him again,” I said. “And can’t we do anything about that mob out there? They are killingthe vibe.”
“Sorry.” He shook his head. “The best I coulddo was keep thembehindthe line.”
I shook my head and waved my hand around the massive, grand lobby of the Sky North Tower. “This is the story. Not me. Not a girlfriend I had a couple months ago. This is why my dadneeds to be here. This is his arena. They aren’t going to ask himabout who he didor didn’t fuck.”
I walked away with my phone to my ear. After several rings, it went to voicemail. “Dad, it’s me again. I’m at the tower. The ribbon-cutting ceremony was supposed to start five minutes ago. I’ve got a lounge full ofpress gettingdrunk. Are youonthe way? Callme ASAP!”
I slipped my phone back into my pocket. I couldn’t delay much longer. This project had been a long time in the making. There was a lot of hype surrounding it. This was my baby. Yes, I had my father’s backing, but this project was really the first one I couldcallmy own.
It was also the first of four. If this one went as well as I hoped it would, we were going to break ground on another tower very soon. It was unfortunate my brief time with a beautiful woman was overshadowing this moment. This was exactly why my dad, Armand Bancroft, was supposed to be here. I couldn’t let the current rumors detract from the project.
I made my way to the lounge where the reporters we handpicked were enjoying some of the cocktails we would be serving. “Hello, everyone,” I greeted. “Are you enjoying our specialty cocktails?”
“Too much,” one of them said. Everyone laughed. “Are we ready to start the tour?”
“I’m ready if you are,” I said with my friendliest smile. “We’ve got a lot ofgroundto cover.”
“WillMr. Bancroft be here?”
“I am Mr. Bancroft,” I said with a wink. I knew what they were asking, but I was going to play it off. “Shall we get started?”
I led them into the lobby they had already been spending a lot of time in. Too much. This ribbon-cutting ceremony was already off on the wrong foot. “This area is for the residents to collaborate and create. They don’t have to be in the same business or work together. It’s a space for people to relax and be inspired. Our designer went with an open space concept.”
“Have youtalkedto Jana today?” a reporter asked. I ignored the question. “The ballroom is this way,” I said. “The acoustics are amazing. The lighting is phenomenal. The ballroomleads into the gardens that were designedby one of the top landscape designers in the world. This will be a onestopshopfor weddings andluxurious parties.”
I led them around the grounds and stayed out of the way while the photographers snapped photos. I took them downstairs to the full gym, indoor pool, and dance studio. I felt their appreciationwiththe looks ontheir faces. I knew it was pretty fucking awesome. It was an entire community in one building. Our residents never hadto leave the safety and security ofthe building.
“We’ll have a full concierge service around the clock,” I explainedwhile we walked.
“Have yousoldallofthe residentialunits?”
I was pleased to have a question related to the tower. “Not yet, but next week when we officially open the doors for those that have already bought, there will be some marketinginplace.”
“What willthe price point be?”
I knew how to deflect from the steep price on each unit. “We’ll have a variety of options. We have one and twobedroom units. Different floorplans and finishes will have different prices. Those that are interestedwill be givena list ofoptions whenthey meet withour in-house team.”
“Luxury costs money,” someone said.
“Imagine the convenience of being able to have everything you need right here,” I said. “Don’t feel like getting a cab or fighting traffic? You don’t have to. If you don’t want to be gone long, you don’t have to. It’s all right here. Our building is the future. People don’t want to brave the weather. They want to stick close to home without sacrificingthe perks ofwhat is out there.”
“Are you going to be inviting Jana to the grand opening next week?”
I kept my smile in place. “She’s welcome to check out all we have to offer here at Sky NorthTower.”
“Has she shown any interest in becoming a Canadian citizen?”
I looked at the young woman that asked the stupid question. “Youwouldneedto ask her that,” I replied.
“Is that why the two ofyoubroke up?” she asked.
I smiled at her and completely ignored her question. “Let’s go on up to the third floor to check out the twobedroommodel,” I said.
Once again, I was doing my best to sidestep the stupid questions about my love life. I hit the button for the elevator andreconsideredtrappingmyselfina box withthe vultures.
It was too late. The doors opened and we all piled in. I tried like hell to avoid getting near the woman asking the personal questions and ignoring the real reason we were here. She was sneaky and found a way to stand right beside me.
“So,are youandJana stilltalking?” she asked.
“I’m not sure why you and the rest of the media are hung up on this. We were friends. We went out a couple times
while she was filminghere inVancouver.”
“You’re not the father ofher unbornbaby?” she pressed. Ding!
I practically raced off the elevator. If there had been women and small children in front of me, they would have been knocked to the floor. I was that desperate. I walked across the hall and quickly entered the digital code into the lock. We weren’t using keys. It was all high tech and highend. I was hoping we were starting a new trend. We were the future.
“Please, come in,” I said to the media filing into twothousand square feet of luxury living. The unit had been stagedby the designer who hadput together eight floorplans for us to use. Even I had to admit it was pretty damn sweet. A little small for my particular tastes, but that was because I livedina sweet little mansion.
The journalists fanned out to inspect the unit. I gave my little spiel, listing out the features that really set our apartments apart fromthe rest of the buildings inVancouver. Ours were the best.
“Next week, I hope you will all come back,” I said. “Our full staff will be on hand. The coffee shop will be manned with the best baristas in Vancouver. You’ll get a chance to meet our event coordinator, and some of our personal trainers will also be on hand to provide some free fifteenminute sessions. Of course, our chef has prepared a tasting menu to sample some of the dishes that will be served in the restaurant onthe secondfloor. Oneof the restaurants onthe secondfloor.”
“What kindoffees willpeople have to pay?”
“There is a standard fee that is really nominal when compared to the services available,” I explained. “The special events, restaurants, and other shops in the building will cover a lot of the overhead cost, which makes our apartments evenmore affordable.”
“Canwe see one ofthe penthouses?”
I smiled and slowly shook my head. “I’mafraid not. We do have the virtual tour of the penthouses, but for security reasons, we’ve opted not to have those included in the tour. Many of them have already been purchased. Our tower is going to be one of the safest buildings in the city. Safe, as well as private. We will have onsite security with surveillance. Only residents will be allowed up to the third floor andbeyond.”
I watched as they jotted down everything I was saying. This little tour was a precursor to the big event next week. We wanted to get people excited. If my father was here like he was supposed to be, he could use that natural charm he wielded. I liked to think I had been blessed with the same charm, but he’d had over sixty years to hone his skills. At thirty-eight,I was stilldevelopingmine.
“We have one other unit I’dlike to show youall,” I said. We moved on to the fourth floor to one of the units with a better view. It was only one bedroom, but it had an office and perks a single person would appreciate. After the tour, we regroupedinthe lobby.
“Does anyone have any questions I can answer?” I asked the group. I caught Josh’s expression. It was one of dread. He shook his headandthencoveredhis face.
That was when I realized what I had done. The reporters all started asking questions at once. None of them were about the tower. It was allabout my personallife. They wanted to know if I was single, dating, or knocking up other women. I didn’t know how the rumors even started. I hadn’t spoken to Jana in weeks. Suddenly, I had read I was the father of her child that she may or may not be pregnant with.
“Thank you all for coming!” Josh jumped into the fray to save me. He ushered the journalists out of the lobby and lockedthe doors.
“Thanks,” I said. “That was a mistake.”
“I don’t think too muchdamage was done,” he said.
“Any word from my father?” I asked while looking at my phone screen. There were no missed calls or texts—not that Dadtextedmuch.
“No.”
“What the hell?” I growled. I called his number once again. It had to be at least the tenth time that day. Again, it went to voicemail.
“I’m going to go by his house, then home to work,” I told him.
“I’llsee youinthe morning,” he said. I drove straight to my dad’s estate. No one answered. I used my key to let myself in. The house was empty and felt like it had been that way for a while. I walked through the house andinto his bedroom. The bedwas neatly made.
I opened the door to his massive closet. Part of me hoped to find his closet cleaned out. That would mean he’d taken a trip or skipped town. He was supposed to have been back from New York days ago. Even if he had decided to stay in the city,he wouldanswer his phone. Somethingfelt off. It was like he’dvanished.
CHAPTER 2
THEA
Isipped my frappuccino and looked around for my brother. He was late. I had a million things to do and sitting in a café waiting on my big brother was not at the top of the list. It didfeel goodto sit downfor a minute. Things were crazy. I was burning the candle at both ends. Taking a minute to just enjoy coffee was nice.
I spotted him the moment he pulled open the door. I waved my hand to get his attention. Before he came to sit down, he gave his drink order to one of the servers. I knew my brother very, very well. We were close, and when he was mad,sad,or inbetween,I knew it.
“What’s goingon?” I asked.
He looked at his phone before putting it face down on the table. “Nothing. How are you? You said you were stressing out yesterday.”
It was what he always did. He was always trying to take care of me. It was like having a second dad. “It’s nothing. What’s goingonwithyou?”
“Just beena busy day,” he saidwitha sigh.
His coffee was delivered. He checked his phone again. I knew there was something bothering him, but I wouldn’t bug him. He’dtell me whenhe was ready. “It’s that time of year,” I saidwitha sigh.
“Beenbusy?”
I nodded. “Kids going to school, and there is suddenly no time for a dogor guinea pig. Kids goingoff to college andthe parents don’t want to take care of their pets. People know it’s going to get cold and don’t want to deal with a big, shaggy,stinky doginthe house.”
“Youknow this happens every year,” he said.
“I know. We just never really got cleared out before the surrender rush. If we don’t get these animals adoptedbefore the after-Christmas surrender rush, I don’t know what I’m goingto do. I won’t have the room. I needto do some kindof adoptionfair.”
“Don’t evenask me to take another dog,” he warned. “I’m one of those that would just have to bring it right back. I work way too much.”
“I know, I know,” I said. “I wouldn’t ask you to take a dog.”
“Again,” he remindedme.
I giggled softly. “I’m just glad you tried. Me and the animals appreciate the effort.”
Once again, he got that faraway look in his eyes. He looked off. Something was most definitely on his mind. “How many are you taking?” He asked the question, but it wasn’t like he was really interested. He was staringout the window.
“Want to tell me what’s eating you from the inside out?” I asked. “Remember, I’m half dog-whisperer, which means I’m a pretty good judge of a person’s mood as well. You know you’re going to tell me, so let’s get it out in the open. Let me helpyou.”
He checkedhis phone andthenlookedat me. “It’s not just me that has a problem. We do.”
“We? As inme andyou?”
He nodded. “AndDad.”
I groaned and leaned back. “What did she do now? Another shoppingspree onDad’s credit card?”
“Worse,” he replied. “She’s movinghimto Calgary.”
My mouthfellopen. “No.”
“Yeah, well, as it turns out, Dad is all grown up and he’s going.”
“Why inthe hellis she dragginghimthere?” I asked.
“Because we’re here,” he said. “She wants him as far from us as possible. No witnesses to the abuse she’s subjectinghimto.”
“His friends and family are here,” I said. “That woman is evil. What the helldoes he see inher?”
“She’s twenty years younger than he is and shook her ass just right,” Richmuttered.
“Whore,” I muttered. “She dresses like a woman of the night. WhendidDadlike that?”
“He’s a man of a certain age. He’s been alone for a long time. Youknow he’s struggledto date since Momdied.”
“He doesn’t love Stacey,” I said.
“No, but that’s why she’s perfect,” he reasoned. “He doesn’t love her. He’ll never love her, but she’s a companion. And when she wants to get her hands on his credit card, she’s nice to him. She takes care of him when the lupus flares up. All she has to do is shake her ass and bring him a drink now andthen.”
“Rich,we can’t let her take himto Calgary!”
“How are we going to stop it?” he asked. “I’ve tried to talk to him,but she’s always right there.”
“Why inthe hellis she doingthis?” I growled.
My ears were burning. I never liked to say I hated anyone, but I really, really disliked this woman. She had come into our life two years ago. At first, we thought it was a fling. Dad was sowing some wild oats with a woman younger than my brother. Then she moved in with him two weeks later. She was going shopping all the time with his money. Our father wasn’t wealthy. He had a healthy retirement account and a pension that Stacey was burning through. At the rate she was going, Dad would be broke within a few years.
“She wants him away from us. From his friends. We’ve all been turning up the heat. She can’t spend as much with us constantly followinguponher.”
I shook my head with my temper rising. “We can’t let her do this. She’ll take his money and abandon him. What if he ends up in another flare that lands him in the hospital? The doctor said they might have to do a round of chemo if it gets bad. He can’t be alone. She’s not going to take care of him throughthat.”
“I know,” he said. “I know.”
“Rich,this is bad.”
That probably wasn’t exactly the right thing to say to lift his spirits. I couldn’t lift him when I was sinking just as fast. We’d been fighting this war for two years. Stacey was winning. Every day, she managed to get our father, our last living relative, just a little farther away from us. She was isolating him. We all saw it. His friends saw it and tried to help. We were powerless against whatever mojo that woman wieldedover him.
“Thea, I know,” he said with frustration. “What do you propose we do? I’ve tried everything. Either he doesn’t see it, or he doesn’t want to. I can’t even take him to lunch or pop over for a beer anymore. How does she have time to shopwithout him, yet always be aroundhim? It’s like she has some kind of radar. Anytime we get close, she knows and comes running. She doesn’t want us to talk any sense into him. She wants himsick andunder her thumb.”
My lip curled with disgust. “First it was Mom’s clothes. Then it was all the family pictures in the house. Then it was all about wanting to host Christmas dinner at their house. His house. Not hers. His! She has slowly dismantled everything. The final straw was Rupert. I cannot believe she got ridof Rupert. She didn’t eventell me. I wouldhave taken the dog. Youdon’t give away a dogbecause it drools.”
“She’s not a good person,” he said. “She’s got her hooks inDad.”
“We should have done better,” I spoke my thoughts aloud. “I knew he was feeling lonely. I was just always too busy. Now look,he’s beencaught ina traphe can’t escape from.”
“Thea,we didallwe could,” he said.
“No, we didn’t, Rich.” I shook my head. “You and I both work around the clock. You’re always traveling and I’m always trying to save every critter great and small. We forgot about the one guy that neededus the most.”
“He was grieving,” Rich argued. “We were grieving. We didn’t do anything wrong. Dad was fine. This woman is a predator.”
“Do we have any legalstandinghere?” I asked.
“I’ve looked into it,” he said. “She’s not doing anything illegal. It’s immoral,but not illegal.”
“Okay, now what, big brother?” I asked. He was four years older thanme andhadalways lookedout for me. When our mom suddenly passed away twelve years ago, Rich had been there for me. He was my rock. Dad had been devastated and unable to functionbeyond daily life, and even that was hard.
“We’ve got to get himalone,” he said. “I’msupposedto be havinglunchwithhimonSaturday. Accordingto him, she has some spa appointment. I don’t think she knows we’re having lunch. We coulddo it then.”
“Okay,” I said. “I’ll get someone to cover for me at the shelter. I’llbe there. We have to make himsee reason.”
“I seriously looked into declaring him incompetent,” he said.
“No, you didn’t,” I said. When he didn’t laugh, I realized he was serious. “Wow. And?”
“And we can’t,” he said. “I talked to one of the police officers I do business with about it. He said there was nothing we could do legally. It has to be Dad. He has to kick that bitchto the curb.”
I looked around the café and leaned forward. “We could hire someone,” I whispered.
“I don’t evenwant to know what youare implying.”
“Just saying,” I saidandleanedback again.
“I’ll text you and let you know for sure if Dad is going to make it.”
“I’lltake one for the team,ifnecessary,” I offered.
“Again,I don’t think I want to know what you’re implying.”
“Not that,” I said. “Sheesh, you act like I’m some criminal.”
“You work in a building in the worst part of town surrounded by criminals,” he said dryly. “You might have pickedupsome badhabits.”
“I wasn’t talking about anything illegal. I was offering to distract Stacey. One ofus has to get Dadalone.”
“We’llsee,” he said.
I checked the time. “I need to get back to the shelter. We’ve got so many intakes I seriously don’t know what I’m going to do with them all. If you know anyone that needs a cat, dog, or one of our newest additions, a hedgehog, call me.”
“You’re doing God’s work, but damn,” he said. “I know I’ve saidthis before,but youcan’t save themall.”
“No, but I cansave as many as possible andthose animals might mean the difference in someone’s life,” I countered. “AndI’mmakinga difference inthose pets’lives.”
“You need to marry rich,” he said. “Then your sugar daddy couldbuy youa farmto house allthese animals.”
“Hmm, maybe I’ll invite Stacey to lunch and ask her for some pointers,” I said.
“She sure as hellknows the secret.”
I went back to the shelter, making sure to lock my car. Rich wasn’t wrong. I worked in a less than pleasant neighborhood,but it was what it was. I neededthe building. I couldn’t change the neighborhood. The moment I opened the back door, I smelled the bleach. To me, it was the smell of home. I hated that all the kennels were full. I so wanted
these animals to find homes to grow old in with people who lovedthem.
I went to my office to get started on the mountain of paperwork I needed to get through. There were donations, which I loved. Vet bills were mounting. There were plenty of applications I needed to get through and inevitably the many requests to surrender their pet. It felt like I adopted out three andtook infive. I couldn’t seemto get ahead.
But I wasn’t goingto let it get me down. This was my life’s work. I signed up for this and I was determined to make a difference one way or another.
CHAPTER 3
REESE
Iwalked past the steam clock in Gastown with my phone pressed to my ear. It was becoming an hourly thing. When the voicemail picked up, it was only to tell me the box was full. I couldn’t leave any more messages for my father.
I slid the phone into my pocket and shook my head. This was just too weird. Where was he? This was not like him. I would never claim to be super close with him, but we talked every couple of days at least. He knew this was animportant day. He wouldn’t miss it. Not without a really goodreason.
I loved walking through the historical district. I often left my car at the office and walked the area that was always packed with tourists. The vibe was always fun and full of excitement. Even though I lived in the city, it never got old. Plus,the area hadsome ofthe best restaurants.
I was almost to the Mexicanrestaurant where I was going to be meeting Rich when I got a text from him. He was running late. I went in and got us a table in the busy restaurant. I ordered the usual margarita and munched on the delicious tortilla chips while I waited. My mindwas stuck onmy dad’s absence.
There was one person that might know. I found my Aunt Kathy’s name in my contact list and gave her a call. I hoped she wasn’t inbedyet.
“Aunt Kathy,it’s Reese,” I saidwhenshe answered.
“Well, hello my very handsome nephew.” I could hear the smile inher voice. We weren’t allthat close, but I hadalways admiredher. She was a goodlady. Too goodfor my uncle. “To what do I owe this callto?”
“I was wondering if you have seen or spoken to my father inthe last few days,” I said.
“Armand? No. He left over a week ago. He’s not home?”
“No, I haven’t seen him,” I said. “I’ve called several times andhe’s not answeringhis phone. His voicemailis full.”
“Have you gone to his house?” she asked with concern. “Maybe he’s hurt.”
“I’ve beento the house. I let myself inandsearched. He’s not there but nothing looks out of place. I talked with his housekeeper. She said he hasn’t been home in two weeks. We had a pretty important event today and he didn’t show up. It’s unlike him. Did he mention going anywhere? Maybe he was goingto one ofhis vacationhomes.”
“No,” she answered. “He told me he was going back to Vancouver. We talked about me going out there to visit soon. I did call him, but he never returned my call. Should I be worried? Are youworried?”
I didn’t want to worry the woman. I knew her health was dicey. “No, I’m sure he just decided to take a few days away. I’mnot worried.”
“Will you please let me know if he doesn’t show up?” she asked. “I’mgoingto keeptryingto callhim.”
“It’s fine, Aunt Kathy,” I tried to assure her. “I’ll let you know whenI talk to him.”
“Please do,Reese,please do.”
I felt a little guilty for worrying her. I hoped that he had maybe decided to crash with Kathy. I knew there was something happening there. They were grown adults. If they wanted to run away together, they could. They didn’t have kids to take care of. They were bothretiredandfree to do as they pleased. Just because they weren’t together didn’t mean there was anything to worry about. He was an adult. A
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The Project Gutenberg eBook of In the great white land
This ebook is for the use of anyone anywhere in the United States and most other parts of the world at no cost and with almost no restrictions whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included with this ebook or online at www.gutenberg.org. If you are not located in the United States, you will have to check the laws of the country where you are located before using this eBook.
Title: In the great white land a tale of the Antarctic Ocean
Author: Gordon Stables
Illustrator: J. Ambrose Walton
Release date: November 7, 2023 [eBook #72061]
Language: English
Original publication: London: Blackie and Son ltd, 1925
Credits: Al Haines, Chuck Greif, and the Online Distributed Proofreading Team at https://www.pgdp.net *** START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK IN THE GREAT WHITE LAND ***
CONTENTS ILLUSTRATIONS FOOTNOTES
TRANSCRIBER'S NOTE
M 968
THE CAVE WAS FILLED WITH DAZZLING LIGHT
Page 206
In the Great White Land
A Tale of the Antarctic Ocean
BY DR. GORDON STABLES, R.N.
Author of “The Naval Cadet” “Crusoes of the Frozen North” &c.
Illustrated
BLACKIE & SON LIMITED LONDON AND GLASGOW
“The ice was here, the ice was there, The ice was all around; It cracked and growled, and roared and howled Like noises in a swound!”
Printed in Great Britain by Blackie & Son, Limited, Glasgow
A R —W S ?
II.“H R , ,” C M B
S ’ B : G , G ,
CROSS
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I.A S D —S T
II.A F M I
III.T B M I -C
IV.T C —S T
V.T S —F N D S
VI.“G - , B . I ’ L ”
VII.M A
VIII.T D P —A W S
IX.T S —V
X.A C J S
XI.“E , H , B ”
ILLUSTRATIONS
The cave was filled with dazzling light Frontis.
Charlie and Walt enjoyed the bare-back rides 80
He hailed the quarter-deck 160 It was the best of fun 264
BOOK I
FAR AWAY IN THE FROZEN NORTH
IN THE GREAT WHITE LAND
CHAPTER I
DAYDAWN IN THE ARCTIC REGIONS WERE THEY SAVAGES?
“Is it a man, or is it a young Polar bear standing on end?”
Had any one seen that strange figure, shuffling slowly to and fro on the snow-clad Polar ice on this bitterly cold morning late in winter, he might have been excused for asking himself that question.
All around was a scene of desolation such as can only be witnessed in Arctic seas at this season of the year.
Desolation? Yes; but beautiful desolation—a desolation that held one spellbound in silent, solemn admiration.
It had been a long, long night of just three months or nearly, and yesterday the sun—glad herald of the opening season—had glinted over the southern horizon for one brief spell, then sunk again in golden glory.
Yesterday all hands had crowded the deck, the frozen rigging, and the tops themselves of the good barque Walrus, to welcome with cheers and song the first appearance of the god of day. And from many a hole in igloo side, in the village that clustered half hidden beneath those pearly hills, natives had crawled out, as crawleth rat from its burrow, to throw themselves on their faces, to moan, to worship, and to pray.
To-day the romance has worn off a little, and the crew of the Walrus (which a peep round the side of the one solitary iceberg that rises in the midst of this frozen bay reveals) will raise nor song nor cheer.
But the white light broadens in the southern sky, the beams of the aurora, that a little while before were flickering and dancing pink and white in the north, fade, the bright stars wax faint and beautiful, then die. A broad band of orange light low down on the horizon, with far above one crimson feather cloud—then the sun’s appearance.
Ah! We can see now that the figure is no bear, but a man, though covered with hoar frost—his skin boots, skin cap, skin coat and all, and his beard and moustache are white and hung with icicles, which tinkle as he climbs the iceberg, lifts the old quadrant, and takes his sight.
While he does so he touches a button, on a little box hung to his short belt, which sets up communication with an instrument and chronometer on the ship.
The man with the beard of tinkling icicles is Captain Mayne Brace himself. Laughing with almost boyish glee as he slings his quadrant and beats his mittened, paw-like hands to woo back their circulation, he quickly descends, and begins to round in the slack of the field telegraph.
Two huge black Newfoundlands, Nora and Nick, have found their way down off the ship, and now come rushing to meet him, making the icy rocks and hills around the bay ring back their joyous barking.
There is, I believe, no light in all the wide world half so bright and dazzling as that of the first brief day of an Arctic spring. Scarce can the human eye, so long accustomed to the soft, tender star-rays, the flickering, coloured aurora, or magic moon-beams, bear to look on the white wastes all around, which seem to have been sown with billions and trillions of tiny diamonds, the God-made prisms and crystals of the virgin snow, pure and white as brow of angel.
The ship towards which Captain Mayne Brace is slowly advancing looks, but for her masts and rigging, like a white marquee, for from stem to stern she had been roofed over, many, many moons ago, when first anchored here in the Gulf of Incognita high to the North, and west of Baffin’s Bay.
Snow-steps lead him aboard, and the surgeon himself meets him at the frozen gangway.
“Sick all doing well, sir,” says the doctor. “Every one been out to-day to peep at the sun, and the sight has done them all good, though it has made some of them long for the green glades and rolling woods of dear old England. But come below, captain, and thaw your beard. Dinner ready to dish up. Let me lead you. Mind that rope. Step high, and you’ll manage. There, now, catch hold of the rail, and I’ll go down the companion in front. Just fourteen steps. Make your feet your friends, and count.”
For Captain Mayne Brace was for the time being snow-blind.
At the foot of the ladder the steward helped him to get out of his ice-rig, and to thaw his beard and eyebrows, then led him in.
He looked old no longer, but brown-bearded, rosy, rubicund, and jolly— just as a sailor should be.
It was not, however, until the soup was finished—real pea-soup with some strength and body in it—that he once more regained his sight. He had shut his eyes and leaned back in his easy-chair while the steward was changing the plates, and when he looked again, he beheld the saloon table encircled with bright, youthful, and happy faces.
Faces with hope in them, eyes that danced with new-born joy; for after all these months of dreary darkness, of shrieking storms and blinding blizzards, had they not seen the sun at last? Yes, and the days would lengthen and lengthen till it would be all one long, bright Arctic day. The snows would melt in the glens yonder, avalanches would fall thundering into the valleys beneath, the tides would break the ice around; yonder mountain berg, which had loomed ghost-like all through the everlasting night of winter, would move seawards and away; then a week of mist, which would lift at length, and reveal hills already patched with the yellow and red of lichens and the green of mosses, soft and tender. For summer comes quickly in the Arctic.
And what then? Why, the birds would return in their tens of thousands, the gulls and gullimots, the malleys, the pilots, the beautiful angelsnowbird, and the wee snow-bunting itself. Then it would be summer, you see. Bears themselves, that slept in frozen pits or caves for months and months, would be on the prowl once more, and eke the Arctic foxes; the sea would be alive and teeming with fish, from great sharks down to the sportive and gay little ghahkas. Whales—the gigantic “right whales”— would dash into the bay, unicorns would be seen, great seals and walruses
would scramble on to patches of ice to bask in the sunshine; and, spreading white sails now to woo the breeze, the Walrus barque would steam slowly away through the opening ice, all hands intent on making their fortunes, that in a “bumper ship” they might sail southwards long before the autumn winds began to blow.
Hadn’t Captain Mayne Brace told those two happy, hungry boys yonder all that would happen? And was the captain ever wrong? Not he.
“Yes, mate, I will have another slice of that brown beef,” said Charlie.
“Thank you, mate,” said Walt; “and why shouldn’t I?”
Both boys were about the same age—glorious and independent sixteen —both called the captain uncle, yet the boys were only cousins.
They loved, respected, nay, even revered, that brown-bearded skipper, as only boys that have an “uncle” who has been twenty long years on the stormy ocean can, and do.
This had been the lads’ first cruise. They were orphans, and though well educated, had been left almost penniless, and were going to adopt the sea as a profession. Their uncle had apprenticed them to the barque, and just because he liked them, they lived here in the saloon, and had a cabin all to themselves, instead of roughing it on the half-deck, sleeping in wooden bunks, and “chumming” it with the spectioneer, the carpenter, and bo’s’n.
He liked the lads, I say, and no man who is over forty, and has still a soul left in him, can help liking an innocent boy of this age, ere yet the bloom has left his healthy cheeks, or the days have come when he scores twenty and fancies himself a real live man.
Walt and Charlie to-day, being so happy at heart from having seen the sun again, were raking the skipper fore and aft with concentrated broadsides of questions.
It was “Oh, I say, uncle,” this and “I say, uncle,” this, that, and t’other all the time, until the great plum-pudding was borne in, and then they stopped their chatter for a minute at least, to wonder and admire.
No ordinary “plum-duff” this. It was large, and round, and brown, and jolly, half inclined to burst its sides with merriment, as the mate lovingly poured the rich gravy over it. Inside it was studded with real raisins, like the stars of an Arctic night in number. Those raisins were well within hail of
each other, and not simply dotted and dibbled in here and there as with the point of a marling-spike.
For Captain Mayne Brace knew how a boy or man should live, to buck himself up to face the rigours of an Arctic winter.
While the boys are busy striking their share of that lordly plum-pudding below, let me say just one brief word or two about the Walrus herself.
She was almost a new barque then, and good enough to go anywhere and do anything, and belonged to three speculative merchants at Hull. These owners thought they knew quite a deal about Greenland East and Greenland West, and because they had never been to Polar seas, imagined that you had only to have a good ship and a crack crew to steam and sail away to the frozen North, pick up a paying cargo of seals or whales—skins and blubber —and sail back again, giving to the spirited owners a modest 200 per cent. on the capital.
The Walrus had been capitally found, her engines were the best, she was built of teak and braced with oak, fortified forward and all along the waterline, and carried every modern appliance that a barque could bear, with electric light, and—well, and what not?
Then Brace himself had been in the “country,” as the sea of ice is called, all his life, so had Milton the mate—both Dundee men—and the crew of Hull men, Scots, and Shetlanders could hardly have been better chosen.
“I’m going to do my level best,” Captain Mayne Brace had said to his owners, as they all sat together in the cosy saloon, while, hardly a year ago, the Walrus, with steam up, was just about to bear up and away. “I’ll do my best, gentlemen, to bring the Walrus home a bumper ship. I’ll try the sealing first. If they have been scared away by the impulsive Danes, I’ll bear up for the Bay of Baffin and do what I can with the whales, even if I have to winter there and wait for the spring fishing.”
“Bravo, Brace!” said one of the owners. “It is all a bit of a spec on our part, you know. But we’re well insured, Brace, and rather than come home a clean ship, we wouldn’t mind if you left her ribs in Baffin’s Bay.”
Brace smiled. He knew what they meant. He had heard such hints before. But these greedy owners had made just one mistake. They had chosen as skipper an honest man—the noblest work of God.
“I’m going to do the best for us all,” he repeated quietly.
Then good-byes were said, and the ship had sailed.
Nor’wards, ever nor’wards, the Walrus had gone cracking on, under steam or under sail, leaving the green British shores on which spring was already spreading bourgeon, wild flower, and leaf. Nor’wards, and past the Orkneys, the Shetlands, and the Faroes; nor’wards, into wilder, bluer, blacker seas and shorter days, encountering storms such as cannot even be conceived by sailors in other parts of the world, with waves as high as pyramids, foam-crested, and madly, demoniacally breaking around, or against, or over the barque; nor’wards, with ice-bound bows, and snowstorms raging on the deck, and seas that sang in the frosty air as they went curling past; nor’wards as defiantly as ever sailed ship from British shore.
Nor’wards, but all in vain. For the Danes, who had ploughed their way in their sturdy high-freeboard ships through the darkness of winter itself, had been there before them.
Long months’ fishing and hardly fifty tons of oil. British though they were, the daring Danes had kept ahead of them, leaving naught for them to gaze upon save blood-stained ice and gory krengs, on which gaunt bears were feeding.
Captain Mayne Brace, disgusted, had left the country, and, after a long voyage, had arrived in Baffin’s Bay.
A few “right whales” had been seen, but even they were hunted and wild, and so they had fished all the summer and caught nothing.
Well, but Captain Brace only shook his brown beard and laughed. He wasn’t the man to let down his heart in a hurry.
He was just the very life and soul of his crew; he bore all his own hardships with never a murmur, and had taught his men to do the same. All through the darkness he studied to keep them active. They had games on the snow under stars and aurora; they fished in the ice-holes, tobogganed on the one great ghostly berg that lay not far off; and, on board, hardly an evening passed but some sort of amusement had been on the boards—a play, a dance, a sing-song, a yarning-and-story-telling spell, or a concert itself.
They had often gone on shore in sledges, the men drawing each other time about, and Nick and Nora lending a shoulder.
The doctor was a plucky, clever young fellow about twenty years old, who, having to wait for another whole twelve months before he should be
old enough—though he had passed—to be gowned and capped, thought he might as well put in that year at sea, and so here he was.
Next to the skipper himself young Dr. Wright was the best-loved man on board. He was really the quintessence of kindness, and you never would have found him in his bunk if one of the men were seriously ill.
To-day he would not wait the conclusion of dinner, but, with his telescope strapped across his shoulder, he had scrambled right up to the crow’s-nest itself, to have one look round before the sun went down again.
At sea it is always the strange and the unexpected that is happening.
But when Wright turned his glass towards the great snow-lands of the west, he started back and rubbed his eyes.
Were those eyes deceiving him?
He wiped the glass and looked again.
“Mercy on us!” he muttered. “Who or what are these?”
It was a team of some kind that had just come over the horizon, and was now wending its way adown the league-long slope towards the head of the bay.
And now he can make them out more distinctly. It was some wild and wandering tribe of semi-savages from the interior, with dogs and sledges and men on skis,[A] or snow-shoes.
He knew that these roving bands were dangerous, and that they came but to rob or even to carry off into exile the more peaceable Yaks who live along the shores.
So he went hurrying down now to make his report, and soon the news spread through the ship, and the excitement was very great indeed.
The warriors—if warriors they were—delayed their coming, however.
The sun set, darkness fell, and it seemed evident that the natives had made a détour, or gone away entirely.
But watchful eyes guarded the Walrus and the village on shore through all the dreary hours of darkness that followed.
The Yaks ashore yonder had been altogether friendly to the Walrus people, and Captain Mayne Brace determined that he would defend them to the last in case of attack.
But night passed by without a single event happening; and about halfpast ten, just as the dawn began to appear in the east, like the reflection from a great city, Wright went up to the crow’s-nest, and once more turned his telescope westwards.
Yes; yonder they were, sure enough, at the very head of the bay not five miles off. He could see their gesticulations, and watch the men as they went scurrying to and fro seeking for errant dogs to harness to the sledges.
They were coming! And before day dawned or the sun rose they would be all around the ship.
The best way to secure peace is to be ready for war.
But Captain Mayne Brace was soon prepared to welcome either friend or foe.
Were they savages?
CHAPTER II
“HEAVE
ROUND, SIR,” SAID CAPTAIN MAYNE BRACE
When the Walrus, in the shortening days of autumn, had steamed slowly into Incognita Bay, she had to force her way through the pancake ice with which the whole extent of the water was covered. Flat pieces these are, probably no more than a foot thick, covered of course with several inches of snow, and with an average diameter of, say, eight feet. They are really the débris of a baby-floe which the waves, raised by some far-off gale of wind, have broken up. The snow-edge all around them is raised by the constant contact of the pieces of ice with one another, and this gives them a fancied resemblance to gigantic pancakes. Hence their name.
But soon after the Walrus had anchored, the sky had cleared, and in the dead, unbroken silence of an early winter, they were frozen together by strong bay-ice. Then snow had fallen and fallen and fallen, with never a breath of wind strong enough to lift one feathery flake, till, on looking out over the bulwarks one morning after the decks had been cleared, and the sun was shining again, lo! the whole surface of the bay was one unbroken, unwrinkled sheet of dazzling snow.
Had that fall continued it would have buried ship and crew and all.
Then the glass had gone down somewhat, and the snow-field fell and shrank.
Harder frost than ever rendered Nature’s winter winding-sheet after this so solid and hard, that a regiment of artillery could have passed over it and left not a trace behind.
When snow had again fallen, it had been accompanied by such high, wild winds, that the flakes were ground into choking ice-dust, and swept clean off the surface of the bay.
The head of this inlet was about five nautical miles from the ship, but as soon as the advancing natives got on to the level snow-bay, with dogs and sledges, they commenced to make short work of this, and their strange, shrill cries, as the dogs were urged madly onwards, could now be distinctly heard by those on board the Walrus.
They were coming on like a whirlwind!
Faded the rich orange bar on the southern horizon, and the first rays of the great silver shield of a sun fell athwart the bay.
The advance was stopped in a second’s time. Down dropped men and dogs, the dogs to rest and pant, the natives to pray, their heads turned sunwards.
Two figures in the tallest sledge, who were wrapped in the skins of the big ice-bear, did not descend. Yet even they bent low their heads in reverence.
“We will have no fight,” said Captain Mayne Brace. “Men who pray never fight, save in a cause that is just.”
“For all that,” said “Dr.” Wright, “look yonder!”
He was pointing northwards, where the Teelies, as the friendly natives were called, could now be seen rapidly advancing in a compact body, all armed with that terrible battle-axe, the seal-club.
They were evidently bent on intercepting the newcomers. Perhaps they knew, of old, those semi-savages from the far interior.
“Now,” said the skipper, “this affair enters on a new phase, and if we cannot intervene as peacemakers, the snow out yonder will soon be brown with blood.”
“I have it, sir,” cried bold young Wright. “Give me ten men, and I will go and meet the Teelies. I don’t want to see bloodshed, captain. I have
enough on the sick-list as it is, without the addition of wounded Yaks.”
“Take your men, and off you go, Wright,” cried Mayne Brace, laughing; “but I believe you are just spoiling for a fight all the same.”
Before an Englishman could have said “Auchtermuchty” without choking, Wright and his ten merry men were over the side and away.
He soon reached the Teelies and stopped, but these men seemed very excited, and brandished their clubs threateningly.
The sleigh Eskimos had also halted, and appeared to be preparing.
At that moment a battle appeared to be imminent, and, if it took place, a queer one it would be.
The Teelies were like a bull-terrier straining wildly at the end of its chain, mad to make a dash for the enemy.
And poor Wright found that, do what he might, he must speedily let them slip, then stand idly by and look on.
Donnybrook fair on an election day, or a wedding at ancient Ballyporeen, wouldn’t be a circumstance to the fight that would follow.
But lo! just at that moment the Gordian knot was unexpectedly cut.
For the high sledge, with the two men in it, was seen to detach itself from the main body, and, with but four dogs harnessed thereto, was driven at tremendous speed towards the Walrus.
Speed was slackened, however, before it got much over half-way, and now the faces and figures of the men on board could be distinctly seen.
And Captain Mayne Brace and his crew stared silently and wonderingly.
These men were evidently not Eskimos, far less were they savages. One was very tall and squarely built, and, had he not been so dark in skin, would have been very handsome.
His companion was evidently very short, but as broad in the beam as any athlete would care to be.
Both were armed with rifles, but these were slung carelessly in front of the sledge.
Presently they were close at hand. Then the taller of the two, who had been driving, ordered the dogs to “down-charge,” and threw the reins to his companion.
When he stood erect on the snow, with his spear-like pole in his left hand, and pulled his skin hood off, the volume of long dark brown hair that tumbled down over his shoulders, his splendid fur-clad figure and dignity of bearing, would have brought down the house in any theatre.
Then he tossed his head, and shook back his locks.
“Ingomar, sir, at your service!” he said, smiling.
The captain stood in the gangway.
“Ingomar, is it?” he said, smiling in turn. “Well, indeed, you look it, young fellow. But won’t Ingomar honour us with his presence on board?” he added.
“With pleasure, captain; and, come to think of it, that is what brought me here.”
Almost ignoring the assistance of the Jacob’s ladder thrown to him, he swung himself easily on board, and stood before them all.
“Heigho!” he said. “This is a nice wind-up to a windy day. What will happen next, I wonder?”
Boy-like, Charlie at once stepped forward and shook Ingomar by the hand. Boys all love heroes. So do men, only they don’t like to show it.
“I’m sure,” said Charlie, impulsively, “uncle will make you welcome.”
“Hurrah!” cried the men.
“Your welcome, young sir,” said Mayne Brace, “shall be second only to that we gave the sun, as soon as we know a little about you, and what you desire.”
“Prettily spoken, captain. Forgive my familiarity. And I tell you straight, gentlemen, that what I desire most at the present moment is a piece of soap, a basin of water, and three towels. This hospitality to be followed, if you’ll be so good—and, being British, you are bound to be—by a good square meal and a cigar!”
Charlie would have led Ingomar straight away down to his own cabin on the spur of the moment.
But Ingomar held back.
“No,” he said politely, “let me wash—scrub, if you like it better— forward at the fo’c’sle. Every day for six months I have stripped, and my body has been scoured with snow. But my face——”
