Part 25 (1/2)
The island stood up sharp and jagged, much larger than Rainey had antic.i.p.ated. It boasted two cones, from one of which smoke was lazily trailing. Ice was piled in wild confusion about its sh.o.r.es, wrecked by the gale that had blown hard from four till eight, and was now subsiding with the swift change common to the Arctic.
A deep hum of bursting surf undertoned all other noises and, prisoned as she was, the schooner and her floe were sweeping slowly toward the land in the grip of a current rather than before the gusty wind.
Lund had fendered the schooner's bows effectively before he went below with old sails that enveloped stem and swell, stuffed with ropes and bits of canvas.
Within an hour the wind had ceased and the slush in the lagoon had pancaked into flakes of forming ice that bid fair to become solid within a short time, for the day was bitterly cold and tremendously bright. The sky rose from filmy silver-azure to richest sapphire, and the rolling waters between the floes were darkest purple-blue. As the whip of the wind ceased they settled to a vast swell on which the great clumps of ice rose and fell with dazzling reflections.
Lund came up within the hour and stood blinking at the brilliance.
”My eyes ain't as strong yit as they should be,” he said to Rainey. ”I shouldn't have slung them gla.s.ses so hasty at Carlsen, though they sp'iled his aim, at that. If this weather keeps up I'll have to make snow-specs; there ain't another pair of smokes aboard.” He made a shade of his curved hand as he gazed at the island.
”Current's got us,” he said, ”an' we'll fetch up mighty close to the beach. It lies between those two ridges, close together, b.u.t.tin' out from the volcano. Long Strait current splits on Wrangell Island, and we're in the trend of the northern loop. That's why the sea don't freeze up more solid. It's freezin' fast enough round us, where there ain't motion.”
He seemed well satisfied with the prospect. ”Had breakfast?” he asked Rainey, and then: ”All right. We'll git the men aft.”
He bellowed an order, and soon every one came trooping, to gather in two groups either side of the cabin skylight. Their faces were eager with the proximity of the gold, yet half sullen as they waited to hear what Lund had to say. Since the attempt against him Lund had said nothing about their shares. They acknowledged him as master, but they still rebelled in spirit.
”There's the island,” said Lund. ”We'll make it afore sundown. The beach is there, waitin' for us to dig it up. It'll be some job. I don't reckon it's frozen hard, on'y crusted. If it is we'll bust the crust with dynamite. But we got to hop to it. There'll be another cold spell after this one peters out an' the next is like to be permanent. I want the gold washed out afore then, an' us well down the Strait. It's up to you to hump yoreselves, an' I'll help the humpin'.
”We'll cradle most of the stuff an', if they's time, we'll flume the silt tailin's for the fine dust. Providin' we can git a fall of water.
There'll be plenty for all hands to do. An' the shares go as first fixed. I ain't expectin' you to do the diggin' an' not git a pinch or two of the dust.”
The men's faces lighted, and they shuffled about, looking at one another with grins of relief.
”No cheers?” asked Lund ironically. ”Wall, I hardly expected enny.
Hansen, you'll be one of the foremen, with pay accordin'. Deming.”
”I can't dig,” said the hunter truculently. ”Neither can Beale, with his ribs.”
”You've got a sweet nerve,” said Lund. ”I reckon you've won enough to be sure of yore shares, if the boys pay up. Enough for you to do some diggin' in yore pockets for Beale. His ribs 'ud be whole if you hadn't started the bolshevik stunt. But I'll find something for both of you to do. Don't let that worry you none.
”We've got mercury aboard somewhere,” Lund continued, to Rainey, when the men had dispersed, far more cheerful than they had gathered. ”We'll use that for concentration in the film riffles. Hansen'll have rockers made that'll catch the big stuff. If the worst comes to the worst, we'll load up the old hooker with the pay dirt an' wash it out on the way home. I'll strip that beach down to bedrock if I have to work the toes an' fingers off 'em.”
By noon the schooner was glazed in as firmly as a toy model that is mounted in a gla.s.s sea. The wind blew itself entirely out, but the current bore them steadily on to the clamorous sh.o.r.e, where the swells were creating promontories, bays, cliffs and chasms in the piled-up confusion of the floes pounding on the rocks, breaking up or sliding atop one another in noisy confusion.
The marble-whiteness of the ice ma.s.ses was set off by the blues and soft violets of their shadows, and by a pearly sheen wherever the planes caught the light at a proper slant for the play of prisms. Beautiful as it was, the sight was fearful to Rainey, in common with the crew. Only Lund surveyed it nonchalantly.
”It's bustin' up fast,” he said. ”All we need is a little luck. If we ain't got that there's no use of worryin'. We can't blast ourselves out o' this without riskin' the schooner. We ought to be thankful we froze in gentle. There ain't a plank started. The floe'll fend us off. There ain't enny big chunks enny way near us aft. Luck--to make a decent landin'--is all we need, an' it's my hunch it's comin' our way.”
His ”hunch” was correct. Though they did not actually make the little bay on which the treasure beach debouched, they fetched up near it against a broken hill of ice that had lodged on the sharp slopes of a little promontory, making the connection without further damage than a splitting of the forward end of their encasing floe, with hardly a jar to the _Karluk_.
Lund sent men ash.o.r.e over the ice, climbing to the promontory crags with hawsers by which they tied up schooner, floe and all, to the land. If the broken hill suffered further catastrophe, which did not seem likely, its fragments would fall upon the floe. In case of emergency Lund ordered men told off day and night to stand by the hawsers, to cast loose or cut, as the extremity needed.
The main danger threatened from following floes piling up on theirs and ramming over it to smash the schooner, but that was a risk that must be met as it evolved, and there did not seem much prospect of the happening.
It was dark before they were snugged. The men volunteered, through Hansen, to commence digging that night by the light of big fires, so crazy were they at the nearness of the gold. But Lund forbade it.
”You'll work reg'lar s.h.i.+fts when you git started,” he said. ”An' you won't start till ter-morrer. We've got to stand by the s.h.i.+p ter-night until we find out by mornin' how snug we're goin' to be berthed.”
All night long they lay in a pandemonium of noise. After a while they would become used to it as do the workers in a stampmill, but that night it deafened them, kept them awake and alert, fearful, with the tremendous cannonading. The bite of the frost made the timbers of the _Karluk_ creak and its thrust continually worked among the stranded ma.s.ses with groaning thunders and shrill grindings, while the surf ever boomed on the resonant sheets of ice.