Chapter Twenty Nine.
Black Snow!
By the middle of September, the worst of the winter weather was over, the snow gradually ceasing to fall and the drifts that had accumulated in the valley up which the creek entered, and where the shipwrecked people from the Nancy Bell had built their house—beginning to melt under the influence of the milder winds and increasing warmth of the sun’s rays.
But, everywhere the landscape still remained wrapped in the same white mantle it had worn ever since the castaways had first taken up their residence on the island, the bare spots then apparent in some places, which was a circumstance owing to the shelter of the cliffs and crags in the immediate vicinity of the sea, having been subsequently covered by the heavy storms at the end of August.
It would take a long time, all saw, for the snow to clear away even if the most rapid thaw were now to set in; and this the climate did not permit of, the transition from winter to spring being carried through a course of progressive stages that were as disagreeable as they were prolonged.
There was balm in Gilead, however.
Not long after the last of the heavy snowfalls, and when the days began to grow brighter, thus enabling the castaways to crawl out in the open and have a little more exercise than they could obtain within doors, the bird colony adjacent to “Penguin Castle” became largely increased, their numbers swelling continually by fresh accessions; so that, in a short time, it was impossible for any of the people to stir out of their habitation without stumbling across a batch of penguins, ever continually grumbling, croaking, chuckling, and otherwise expressing their indignation at being, as they seemed to think, so unjustly interfered with by the castaways.
It was evident that the building season of the birds had arrived; and it could not certainly have come at a more auspicious time, for their provisions were almost exhausted and Mr Meldrum was in great straits how to supply the party with food. The despised flesh of the sea-elephants, even, had by this time been consumed and all hands placed on short allowance, it being impossible to go out hunting again as yet, or to penetrate up the valley to the rabbit warren, on account of the snow blocking the way and rendering the ascent of the hills impracticable.
The influx of the penguins, therefore, for which he had been looking out for the last few weeks and had almost despaired of, was hailed by Mr Meldrum with the deepest joy, for it solved his greatest difficulty at once, taking away the fear of starvation that had been haunting him. With such a plentiful supply of the birds, they might now hope to last out until they could procure more palatable food; and those who were “squeamish” in objecting to the fishy odour of the penguins themselves, would faut de mieux find plenty of sustenance in the eggs that there was no doubt would soon be laid in much greater abundance than they either required or could consume.
As the penguins mustered their forces, each day seeing some fresh arrivals to fight for the occupation of the rookery, they were a constant source of amusement to the snow-bound party, who, not being able to stir far from the doorway of the “castle,” had nothing hardly to occupy their attention save the movements of the birds.
The penguins, they observed, were of four different classes or varieties, although all belonged to the same family, partaking of the common characteristics of such; but, even as they differed in size and appearance, so they presented diverse modes of conducting their domestic arrangements and varied in their habits.
Some were of the most retiring nature. These, isolating themselves in a separate encampment, drew a strong line of demarcation between the abode of their neighbours and their own retreat, as if they were of too exclusive a temper to associate with the common herd; while others, of quite a different species, appeared to have no false pride which prevented them from associating with the rest, of whatever class they might belong to, for they were “hail fellow well met” almost on their arrival with every bird in the rookery.
“Them’s republicans, I guess,” said Mr Lathrope, noticing this trait of character. “They don’t care a cuss for social distinctions!”
Mr Meldrum, having had some previous acquaintance of the penguin family when on board a ship which had been employed in surveying duties in the Straits of Magellan and round the Falkland Islands, was able to give the others a good deal of information about the birds.
There were four varieties, he said, on Kerguelen Land, as far as he could see, namely:— the “king penguin,” the aristocrat of the community, who kept aloof from the rest; a black-and-white species that whaling men call the “johnny;” a third, styled the “macaroni penguin,” which had a handsome double tuft of rich orange-coloured feathers on their heads; and a fourth variety, distinct from the last-mentioned only from its smaller size, and the fact of its plume or crest being single instead of double, and of a pale sulphur yellow in lieu of orange.
Amongst the penguins, too, were to be seen numbers of little sheathbills—just like small bantams, similar to the specimen Frank Harness had shot, and which he was so sorry about. The little birds went about in pairs and appeared to act as the scavengers of the larger ones, for they haunted their breeding-places, scraping about the nests and dung, clearing out the rotten eggs, and making free with the insects that properly appertained to the penguins. Indeed, they were impudent enough sometimes to seize upon the freshly-laid egg that some lady macaroni had laid, right under the eyes of its owner, feloniously appropriating it to their own use; while they thought nothing of giving an occasional peck to one of the king penguins if he got in their way, regardless of his exalted position!
Flocks of shags, or cormorants, also visited the bay at the same time. These were found good eating, although not so fleshy as the penguins; and, before the end of the month, there came a large family of seals, which would probably have taken up their abode in the creek had not some of the sailors frightened them away so effectually by their indiscriminate slaughter that they never returned, nor did any others come subsequently to the place.
The coats of these seals were of a fine iron-grey hue, something like that of an otter, only with much more delicate hair. Mr Meldrum was very anxious to secure as many of them as was possible, so he was much chagrined when they disappeared and left him fur-less.
Another visitor was the pretty little Cape pigeon, which Kate recognised as an old friend and was delighted to see. It reminded her, she told Frank, of “old times,” when they grew acquainted with each other on board the Nancy Bell and watched the stars at night—and all the rest of it!
But the penguins were the great attraction.
They were “food for the mind and food for the body as well!” the American would say, as he watched Snowball picking the feathers off some scores of the birds when preparing the dinner. The darkey would persist in putting himself to this trouble every day, in spite of Mr Meldrum telling him that the easiest plan was to skin them, when the feathers would come off in a lump in a quarter of the time; but Snowball would not be persuaded to adopt this course, although the majority of the sailors did so when preparing the penguins for storing up, and there was consequently a large accumulation of skins, which came in very handy presently for tailoring purposes.
Through constant wear, the trousers of the majority of the menfolk were into such a dilapidated condition that it became absolutely necessary to try and restore them—none of the entire party having a single change of clothing with them, excepting the ladies; while the only material available for their rehabilitation was sailcloth, which, besides not being enough for all, was rather too stiff a material for either comfort or warmth.
In this dilemma, the happy thought struck Mr McCarthy of fashioning a pair of “unmentionables” out of penguin skins; and he had no sooner “hatched the idea” than he carried it into practical effect by instructing Ben Boltrope, who was by a long way the smartest and most ready-witted of the men, to make him the trousers.
The deed was accomplished; and, really, the garments did not look at all bad when finished, for, on the removal of the outside feathers, the skin of the bird was found to be coated with a fine down like that of the eider-duck, which lent an originality of appearance to the trousers that could hardly be described.
“They’re just like Barnum’s woolly horse,” said Mr Lathrope, criticising them calmly. “If I were you, Mac, I wouldn’t go nigh the rookery with them on, or them birds will take you for a fledgeling, mister, I guess!”
“Begorrah, I don’t care, for they’re worrum and comfortable,” said Mr McCarthy, “and it’s raal white ducks they are, anyhow!”
They certainly looked it; but, as the first-mate would not be put out of any conceit with the garments, in spite of their appearance, and as others began to be similarly in need, they had perforce to follow his example, when penguin trousers may be said to have “become the rage” on the island—even Mr Lathrope, who had laughed at Mr McCarthy for wearing them, having to follow the fashion and don the “ducks.”
Owing to this new demand on the feathered colony it would seem like exaggeration to state how many thousands came to an untimely end, in addition to the numbers that were killed to supply the daily necessities of the table and the large quantity which Mr Meldrum had caused to be prepared and dried, like the rabbits, “for a rainy day;” while, as to the eggs that were eaten—well, the least said about these the better!
From all of this it may be gathered that the penguins made a bad move when they came back to their old breeding-place; but the stupid birds never seemed to be aware that they could at any time save themselves by flight if they liked, although they must have been somehow or other acquainted with the deplorable fact—in a bird-like way—that their rookery was becoming rapidly depopulated! No, notwithstanding that they saw their friends and relatives repeatedly slaughtered before their very eyes—their penguin parents, children, godfathers, godmothers, and first cousins thus perishing at the hands of miscreants in human form, and subsequently converted into food and clothing and to other “base uses” by those who took their innocent lives—they never appeared to make an effort in self-defence, either by executing a “strategical movement” or otherwise!
The spirit of penguinism, so to speak, was dead, the bird colony contenting themselves by grumbling, an infallible resource for all similarly constituted creatures—in which respect, as Mr Lathrope was pleased to put it, they resembled a class of modern politicians who need not be alluded to here.
Amongst those included in the list of penguin slayers was one who pursued them to the death—although rather through a desire for malicious sport and self-gratification than from any actual necessity—and this vindictive enemy was Master Maurice Negus.
The young gentlemen had developed many pleasing traits of character during the comparatively short period during which he was brought into public notice as one of the passengers of the ill-fated Nancy Bell; but in none of these had he so well exemplified his natural and ingenious bias of mind as in the little predilection, if it may be so termed, for bird slaughter in ovum, which first saw the light in Kerguelen Land.
Soon after the penguins came to breed there, Master Maurice noted them carefully, and it pleased him much thereafter to go “bird-nesting,” as he called it. He would go by himself and remain away for hours, no one knowing what “the imp,” as all spoke of him, was up to; but one day it was discovered that the fancy for “collecting eggs,” according to his own explanation, consisted in swallowing as many raw ones as he could get hold of unseen—he being observed on the occasion in question to get rid of a round dozen of the eggs deposited by the penguins, just as he would have done so many oysters, saying afterwards when taxed with the gluttony that he felt delicate, and had heard that eggs were recommended by doctors for consumptive patients!
But, later on, the young gentleman “caught a tartar.”
On his last bird-nesting excursion he happened, fortunately or unfortunately, to shove a half-hatched egg down his throat; and, the embryo bird nearly choking him, his poultry-fancying propensity was transformed into an inveterate dislike towards the entire penguin tribe—a slightly lucky mistake for the creatures in question, as thereby the list of their enemies became decreased by one.
Time thus slipped by with the inhabitants of the house on the creek.
Melting by degrees, the vast piles of snow began to vanish from the valleys and low-lying lands, although still clothing the distant hill-sides and mountain-peaks, from the loftier ones of which it probably never entirely cleared away even in the height of summer; but, the ground around was naturally so damp and marshy, and had become so soddened now with moisture, that it was almost as impracticable for Mr Meldrum or any other of the party to get away from the vicinity of the hut, as it had been during the heavy storms of August when the snow had drifted up the gullies and levelled the country.
In fact it was more so, for, the accumulated water, proceeding from the thaw and the rain, which came every now and then to aid it, had swelled the fresh-water tarn near them so greatly that it had overflowed its banks, which now extended on the right to the base of the furthest hills at the head of the valley that penetrated the creek; while, to the left, the water was pouring down, a foaming torrent, into the sea—the house being almost surrounded and separated by the newly-made river from the little building in which the jolly-boat had been housed on the beach.
They were thus threatened with a flood, for the water was rising every moment and slowly creeping up to their feet, narrowing the little peninsula on which their habitation stood.
That was not the worst either!
While they were pondering as to the best means for extricating themselves from the danger of being washed away, a new one arose.
Through the melting of the snow on the mountains above, a sparkling cascade commenced all at once to leap down the face of the cliff at the back of the house, right on to the roof over their heads.
This was serious; for, should this peril not be guarded against and some sort of pent-house put up as a shield, the slight timber work of the roof would soon be crushed in and swept away by the ever-increasing weight of the falling water.
In the midst of these imminent dangers, a phenomenon occurred which for the moment appalled everybody, not even excepting Mr Meldrum—it was so strange, so awe-inspiring!
It commenced snowing again; but there was nothing unusual in that. What was unusual was, that the flakes which fell, instead of being white, were as black as ink!
What could the awful portent foretell?
It was inexplicable.