Part 20 (1/2)

That's my yarn. There's nothing very grand about it; but, at least, it's true. As true, I mean, as old sailors' yarns usually are.

”Gone!” cried the doctor, as the Dutchman, a minute before solid in appearance, suddenly collapsed into air and moisture, which directly became ice. ”If I hadn't been so polite I might have stopped him. I suppose the effort of telling their histories exhausts them.”

”Well, sir, it's jolly interesting!” said Bostock.

”Yes, my man,” said the doctor; ”but there's no science in it. What is there in his talk about how he came here, or for me to report to the learned societies?”

”Can't say, I'm sure, sir,” I said; ”only, the discoveries.”

”Yes, that will do, Captain. But come, let's find another?”

We all set to eagerly, for the men now thoroughly enjoyed the task. The stories we heard enlivened the tedium, and the men, far from being afraid now, went heartily into the search.

”Shouldn't wonder if we found a n.i.g.g.e.r friz-up here, mates,” said Binny Scudds.

”Or a Chine-hee,” said one of the men.

”Well, all I can say,” exclaimed Bostock, ”is this here, _I_ don't want to be made into a scientific speciment.”

”Here y'are!” shouted one of the men. ”Here's one on 'em!”

”Get out!” said Binny Scudds, who had run to the face of a perpendicular ma.s.s of ice, where the man stood with his pick. ”That ain't one!”

”Tell yer it is,” said the man. ”That's the 'airs of his 'ead sticking out;” and he pointed to what appeared to be dark threads in the white, opaque ice.

”Tell you, he wouldn't be standing up,” said Binny Scudds.

”Why not, if he was frozen so, my men?” said the doctor. ”Yes; that's a specimen. This ice has been heaved up.”

”Shall we fetch him out with powder,” said Bostock.

”Dear me, no!” said the doctor. ”Look! that ice is laminated. Try driving in wedges.”

Three of the men climbed onto the top, and began driving in wedges, when the ice split open evenly, leaving the figure of what appeared to be a swarthy-looking Frenchman, exposed as to the face; but he was held in tightly to the lower half of the icy case, by his long hair.

”Blest if he don't look jest like a walnut with one sh.e.l.l off!” growled Scudds; but he was silent directly, for the Frenchman opened his eyes, stared at us, smiled, and opened his lips.

”Yes; thank you much, comrades. You have saved me. I did not thus expect, when we went drift, drift, drift north, in the little vessel, with the rats; but listen, you shall hear. I am a man of wonderful adventure. You take me for a ghost?”

Bostock nodded.

”Brave lads! brave lads!” said the Frenchman; ”but it is not that I am.

I have been taken for a ghost before, and prove to my good friends that I am not. I prove to you I am not; but a good, sound, safe, French _matelot_!--sailor, you call it.”

”I should like to hear you,” said Binny Scudds, in a hoa.r.s.e growl.

”You shall, my friend, who has helped to save me.”

”Let it be scientific, my friend,” said the doctor.

”It shall, sir--it shall,” said the Frenchman.