Part 7 (1/2)
”Although I had not, as I have said, discovered any natives living on the island, yet I came back from my journey feeling less disappointed than I would have thought. No doubt my anxiety to see how the Dean was so occupied my mind that I did not dwell as much upon my own unhappy condition as I otherwise would have done. In truth, I think the Dean must have saved me from despair and death; for, if I had not felt obliged to exert myself in his behalf, I must have sunk under the heavy load of my misfortunes.
”When I came back to the Dean, I found that the poor boy was still sleeping soundly,--a sort of dead, heavy sleep. At first, I thought to arouse him; but then, again, since I found he was quite warm, I concluded the best thing was not to disturb him. Some color had come into his face; indeed, there was quite a flush there, and he seemed to be a little feverish. The only thing I now feared was that his reason might have left him; and this thought filled me with a kind of dread of seeing him rouse up, just as every one, when he fears some great calamity, tries to postpone the realization of it as long as possible.
So I suffered him to remain sleeping, and satisfied myself with watching his now somewhat heavy breathing for a little while, when, growing chilly (for the sun had by this time gone behind the island, thus leaving us in the shadow of the tall cliffs), I began to move about again. I set to work collecting more of the eider-down, so that, when I should be freed from my anxiety about the Dean, I might roll myself up under this warm covering and get some sleep; for, although my mind was much excited, yet I was growing sleepy, besides being chilly. I also collected a number of eggs, and ate some more of them; and, using several of the sh.e.l.ls for cups, I brought some water, setting the cups up carefully in the gra.s.s, knowing that when the Dean opened his eyes he must needs be thirsty as well as hungry.
”All this being done, I fell to reflecting again, and, as was most natural, my thoughts first ran upon what I should do to make a fire. I had found--or at least I thought I had found--something that would burn, as I have said before; but what should I do for _the first spark_? True, with my jack-knife for a steel, and a flint-stone, of which there were plenty, I could strike a spark without any difficulty; but what was there to strike it into, so that it would catch and make a blaze? I knew that in some countries people make a blaze by rubbing two pieces of dry wood together; but this I could not do, as I had not a particle of wood.
In other countries, I knew, they have punk, into which they strike a spark, and the spark will not go out until the punk is all burned up, so that they have only to blow it on some inflammable substance until a blaze comes; but where was I to get the punk from? I had also heard that fire had been made with lenses of gla.s.s, which, being held up to the sun, concentrate the rays and make a great heat, sufficient to set wood and like combustible things on fire; but I had no lens. Of course, I have no need to tell you that I had no matches, such as we have now-a-days here.
”Thus the night wore on. I say _night_, but you must bear in mind, as I told you before, that there was really no night at all,--the sun being above the horizon all the time; and the only difference now in the different periods of the day was, that when the sun was in the south it shone upon us, while when it was at the north we were under the shadow of the cliffs. The sun, you must observe, in the Arctic regions, circles around during the summer, only a little way above the horizon, never rising overhead, as it does here, but being always quite low down; and hence it never gives a very strong heat, although the air is sometimes warm enough to be very comfortable.
”I was glad when the shadow of the cliff pa.s.sed from over me, and the sun was once more in view.
”I now grew quite warm, though my great fatigue did not vanish; but I was so anxious about the Dean that I would not sleep, and kept myself awake by moving about all the time, staying always near the Dean. At length, soon after the sun appeared, the boy began to show some restlessness; and as I approached him, I found that his eyes were wide open. He raised himself a little on one arm, and turned towards me as I came up to him, and looked straight at me, so calmly and intelligently that I saw at once he had come to his senses entirely; and so rejoiced was I, that, without thinking at all about what I was doing, I fell down beside him, and clasped him in my arms, and cried out, 'O Dean, Dean!'
over and over a great many times. You cannot imagine how glad I was!
”'Why, Hardy,' said he, in a very feeble voice, 'where are we? What's the matter? What has happened to us?' Seeing that it was useless for me to attempt to evade the question, I told him all the circ.u.mstances of the s.h.i.+pwreck, and how I had carried him there, and what I had been doing. I thought at first this would disturb him, but it did not seem to in the least. After I had finished, he simply said: 'I thought it was all a dream. It comes back to me now. I remember a frightful crash, of being in the water on the wreck, of seeing some one approaching me, of being held down first by a drowning man and then by a rope, of trying to free myself, and then I must have swooned, for I remember nothing more.
I have now a vague remembrance of some one talking to me about a dream I had, but nothing distinct.'
”'But,' said I, 'Dean, don't talk any more about it just now, it will fatigue you; tell me how you feel.' 'No,' answered he, 'it does not fatigue me, and I want to collect myself. Things are getting clearer to me. My memory returns to me gradually. I see the terrified crew. It was but an instant. I heard the crash. The great body of the ice fell right amids.h.i.+ps,--right upon the galley. Poor cook! he must have been killed instantly. Some of the crew jumped overboard; I tried to, but got no farther than the bulwarks, and then was in the water; I don't know how I got there. When I came up there was a man under me, and I was tangled among some rigging, but was lifted up out of the water on some large ma.s.s of wreck. The man I told you of tried to get up too; but his feet were caught, and I saw him drowning. I saw another man holding on to the wreck, but a piece of ice struck him, and he must have fallen off immediately.'
”'Dean, Dean!' said I, 'do stop! you are feverish; quiet yourself, and we'll talk of these things by and by';--and the boy fell back quite exhausted. His skin was very hot, and his face flushed. 'O my head, my head!' exclaimed he; 'it pains me dreadfully! Am I hurt?' and he put his hand to the side of his head where he had been struck, and, finding that he was wounded, said: 'I remember it now perfectly. A heavy wave came, and was tossing a piece of timber over me, and I tried to avoid being struck by it. After that I remember nothing. It must have struck me. I'm not much hurt,--am I?'
”'No, Dean,' I answered, 'not much hurt, only a little bruised.'
”'Have you any water, Hardy?' he asked, 'I am so thirsty!'
”It was fortunate that I had brought some in the eggsh.e.l.ls, and in a moment I had given him a drink. It did me good to see him smile, as I handed him the water, and ask where I got such odd cups from. 'Thanks, thanks!' said he; 'I'm better now.' Then after a moment's pause he added, 'I want to get up and see where we are. I'm very weak; won't you help me?' But I told him that I would not do it now, for the present he must lie quiet. 'Then raise me up and let me look about.' So I raised him up, and he took first a look at the strange pile of eider-down that was upon him, and then at the ice-covered sea, but he spoke not a word.
Then he lay down, and after a short time said calmly: 'I see it all now.
Hard,--isn't it? But we must do the best we can. I feel that I'll soon be well, and will not be a trouble to you long. Do you know that until this moment I could hardly get it out of my head that I had been dreaming? We must trust in Heaven, Hardy, and do the best we can.'
”Being now fully satisfied as to the complete recovery of the Dean, I gave myself no further concern about watching him; but at once, after he had, in his quiet way, asked me if I was not very tired, I buried myself up in the heap of eider-down close beside him, and was soon as deeply buried in a sound sleep.”
The Captain, evidently thinking that he had gone far enough for one day, now broke off suddenly. The children had listened to the recital more eagerly than on any previous occasion,--so much so, indeed, that they had wholly disregarded the storm; and little Alice was so absorbed in learning the fate of the poor s.h.i.+pwrecked Dean, that her fears about the thunder and lightning had been quite forgotten. When the Captain paused, the storm had pa.s.sed over, the sun had burst through the scattering clouds, and in the last lingering drops his silver rays were melted into gorgeous hues; for
”A rainbow--thrown brightly Across the dark sky-- (Soft curving, proud arching In beauty on high)
”Had circled the even,-- A bridal ring, given To wed earth with heaven, As it smiled 'neath the veil of the glittering rain.”
The little birds had come out of their hiding-places, and were merrily singing,
”Farewell to the rain, the beautiful rain”;
and the party of little folks that had been hidden away in the ”Mariner's Rest,” following their example, were soon gayly hastening across the fresh fields,--the old man carrying laughing Alice in his arms, to keep her tender feet from the wet gra.s.s.
CHAPTER VIII.