Part 13 (2/2)

”Just make her snug, you know, Mr Stevenson,” said McBain, ”for the night will be dark, and we may have more wind before the middle watch.”

”And troth,” said Rory to his companions, ”if the s.h.i.+p is to be made snug, I don't see why we shouldn't make ourselves snug for the night too.”

Ralph was gazing down through the skylight at the brilliantly-lighted saloon, where Peter, with the aid of the a.s.sistant-steward and Freezing Powders, was busy laying the cloth for dinner.

”I've just come from forward,” replied Ralph, in raptures, ”where I've been sniffing the roast beef and the boiled potatoes; and now just look below, Rory,--look how Peter's face beams with intelligent delight; see how radiant Freezing Powders is; behold how merrily the flames dance on that fire of fires in the stove, and how the coloured crystal s.h.i.+mmers, and the bright silver s.h.i.+nes on that cloth of spotless snow! Yes, Rory, you're right, boy--let us make ourselves snug for the night. So down we go, and dress our smartest--for, mind, boys, there is going to be company to-night.”

Yes, there was going to be company; five were all that as a rule sat down to table in the grand saloon, but to-night the covers were laid for five more, namely Stevenson, Seth, old Magnus, and Ap, and last, though not least, De Vere, the French aeronaut.

The cook of the _Arrandoon_ had been chosen specially by Ralph himself.

Need I say, then, that he was an artist? and to-night he had done his best to outs.h.i.+ne himself, and, I think, succeeded. I think, too, that when Peter went forward, some time after the great joints had been put on the table, and told him that everything was going on ”as merrily as marriage bells,” and that the gentlemen were loud in their praises of Ralph's cook, that that cook was about the happiest man in the s.h.i.+p.

Peter had not exaggerated a bit either, for everything did go off well at this little dinner-party. It would have done your heart good to have seen the beaming countenances of little Ap, old man Magnus, and honest trapper Seth; and to have noticed how often they pa.s.sed their plates for another help would have made you open your eyes with wonder--that is, if you never had been to Greenland; but had you made the voyage North Polewards even once, you would have known that of all countries in the world that is just the place to give man or boy a healthy appet.i.te.

When the cloth was removed and dessert placed upon the table they seemed happier than ever, if that were possible, and smiles and jokes and jocund yarns ere the order of the evening. After every good story the c.o.c.katoo helped himself to an immense mouthful of hemp-seed, and cried,--

”Dea-ah me! Well, well, but go on, _go on_--next.”

And as to Freezing Powders, he was so amazed at many things he heard, that more than a dozen times in one hour he had to refresh himself by standing on his head in a corner of the saloon.

”Well, well, well!” said McBain, taking the advantage of a mere momentary lull in this feast of reason and flow of soul, ”and what a strange mixture of nationalities we are, to be sure! Here is our bold, quiet Ralph, English to the spine--”

”And I,” said Rory, ”I'm Oirish to the chine.”

”That you are,” a.s.sented McBain; ”and Allan and myself here are Scotch; and if you look farther along the table there is Wales represented in the form of cool, calculating, mathematical Ap; Shetland in the shape of our brave gunner Magnus; France in the form of friend De Vere; and the mightiest republic in the world in Seth's six feet and odd inches; to say nothing of Africa standing on its head beside Polly's cage.

Freezing Powders, you young rascal, drop on to your other end; don't you see you're making Polly believe the world is upside down? look at her hanging by the feet with her head down!”

”Dat c.o.c.katoo not a fool, sah,” said Freezing Powders; ”he know putty well what he am about, sah!”

”D'ye know,” said Ralph, looking smilingly towards Seth, ”it is quite like old times to see Seth once more in the midst of us?”

”And oh!” said Seth, rubbing his hands, while a modest smile stole over his wiry face, ”mebbe this old trapper ain't a bit pleased to meet ye all again. Gentlemen, Seth and civilisation hain't been 'cquaintances very long; skins seem to suit this child better'n the fine toggery ye've rigged him out in. But ye've made him feel a deal younger, and he guesses and calculates he may die 'pectable yet.”

I fear it was pretty far into the middle watch ere our friends parted and betook themselves to their berths. Two bells had gone--”the wee short hoor ayont the twal”--when McBain rose from the table, this being a signal for general good-nights.

”I'm going part of the way home with you, old man,” he said to Magnus, and with his arm placed kindly over his shoulder he left the saloon with the brave wee Shetlander. ”Two turns on the deck, Magnus,” he continued, ”and then you can turn in. And so, you say, in all your experience--and it has been very vast, hasn't it, my friend?”

”That it has, sir,” replied Magnus. ”I may say I was born in these seas, for the first thing I remember--when our s.h.i.+p went down under us in the pack north of Jan Mayen--is my father, bless him! putting me in a carpetbag for safety, to carry me on to the ice with him. Yes, sir, yes.”

”And in all your experience,” McBain went on, ”you don't remember a season likely to have been more favourable for our expedition to the North Pole than the present?”

”I don't, sir--I don't,” said little Magnus, ”Look, see, sir, the frost has been extreme all over the north. In the Arctic regions the ice has been all of a heap like. It isn't yet loosened. We haven't met a berg yet. Funny, ain't it, sir?--queer, isn't it, cap'n?”

”It is strange,” said McBain; ”and from this what do you antic.i.p.ate?”

”Antic.i.p.ate isn't the word, cap'n,” cried Magnus, fixing McBain by the right arm, stopping his way, and emphasising his words with wildfire glints from his warlock eyes. ”Antic.i.p.ate?--bah! cap'n--bah! I'm old enough to be your grandfather. Ask me rather what I _augur_? And I answer this, I augur a glorious summer. Ice loosened before May-Day.

Fierce heat south of England, and consequently rarefaction of the atmosphere, and rus.h.i.+ng winds from the far north to fill up the heated vacuum--rus.h.i.+ng winds to trundle the icebergs south before them--rus.h.i.+ng winds to split the packs, and rend the floes, and open up a pa.s.sage for this brave s.h.i.+p to the far-off Isle of Alba.”

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