“I’ll bet ye be,” cried Cap’n Pem. “Blow me if ye ain’t reg’lar hunters. Fetched in three o’ the critters, eh? Waall, I’ll be sunk!”
As the half-famished boys ate ravenously, they told their story of the hunt to the men and officers and then, having been unanimously acclaimed the champion hunters of the ship, they crawled into their bunks, snuggled among their furs, and were instantly sound asleep.
So rapidly had the time passed that the boys could scarcely believe that half the winter was over. As Tom, on the morning after their musk ox hunt, started to write down the events of the preceding day in his diary, he uttered a surprised ejaculation.
“Gosh, Jim, it’s only two weeks till Christmas!”
“No!” exclaimed Jim. “Gee, I didn’t realize it. We’ll have to have a celebration. I wonder what they do up here.”
“Of course we celebrate,” the captain assured them when they spoke to him about the holidays. “Reckon we’d better be gettin’ ready pretty quick.”
So for the next ten days every one aboard the Narwhal was busy. There was the same delightful mystery in the air as at home; preparations for the Christmas festivities proceeded rapidly; and the boys were amazed to discover what resources the men and the schooner possessed. Mike and the carpenter worked early and late at building a miniature whaling ship to serve in place of a Christmas tree. The grinning black cook labored from morning until night—or rather from breakfast until bedtime—baking cakes and pies, making mysterious dishes, and boiling great kettles of molasses for candy, and from dinner until nearly midnight, the boys and men had glorious fun pulling the molasses candy, roasting quarts and pecks of peanuts, and popping hundreds of ears of corn. Half shyly the rough whalemen brought out clumsily wrapped packages and placed them on the pile of gifts on the chart table. Even the Eskimos seemed to catch the spirit of Christmas, and grinned and clucked and chuckled as they saw the preparations going on, for they had seen Christmas celebrations before and knew what a fine time was in store.
Two days before the great day, the completed model of the ship was set up in the deck house, and all hands busied themselves stringing the pop corn in its rigging, hanging the presents to the yards and masts, piling candy wrapped in bright-colored paper on the decks, and attaching colored candles along the bulwarks, up the shrouds, and along the yards.
“Say,” cried Jim, as the boys surveyed the completed substitute for a tree with approval. “Every one’ll have to hang up his stocking. Look at that heap of presents!”
At first the men demurred, trying to laugh off their embarrassment, but the boys insisted, the captain seconded them, Mr. Kemp added his pleas, and old Pem chuckled.