Courtenay heard the sea breaking against it. The ship could not have been more than sixty feet distant, a little more than her own beam, and he fully expected that she would grind against some outlier in the next instant. But the Kansas had a charmed life. She ran on unscathed, and seemed to be traveling in smoother water after this escape.
Walker’s dark skin was the color of parchment when he reached the chart-house.
“Captain,” he said, weakly, “I’ll do owt wi’ engines, but I’m no good at this game. That thing fairly banged me. Did ye see it?”
“Did you see land?” demanded Courtenay, imperatively. His spirits rose with each of these thrills. He felt that it was ordained that his ship should live.
“Yes, sir. The-aw’s hills, and big ones, a long way ahead, but I’m no’ goin’ up that mast again. It would be suicide. I’m done. I’ll nev-ah fo-get yon stone ghost, no, not if I live to be ninety.”
Then Joey, sniffing the morning, uncurled himself, stretched, yawned loudly, and thought of breakfast, for he had passed a rather disturbed night, the second in one week. To cope with such excitement, a dog needed sustenance.
CHAPTER VIII.
IN A WILD HAVEN
Fortune has her cycles, whether for good or ill. The Kansas, having run the gauntlet of many dangers, seemed to have earned an approving smile from the fickle goddess. A slight but perceptible veering of the wind, combined with the increasing power of the sun’s rays, swept the ocean clear of its storm-wraiths. Soon after passing the pillar rock, Courtenay thought he could make out the unwavering outline of mountainous land amid the gray mists. A few minutes later the waves racing alongside changed their leaden hue to a steely glitter which told him the fog was dispersing. The nearer blue of the ocean carpet spread an ever-widening circle until it merged into a vivid green. Then, with startling suddenness, the curtain was drawn aside on a panorama at once magnificent and amazing.
Almost without warning, the ship was found to be entering the estuary of a narrow fiord. Gaunt headlands, carved on Titanic scale out of the solid rock, guarded the entrance, and already shut out the more distant coast-line. Behind these first massive walls, everywhere unscalable, and rising in separate promontories to altitudes of, perhaps, four hundred feet, an inner fortification of precipitous mountains flung their glacier-clad peaks heavenward to immense heights,—heights which, in that region, soared far above the snow-line. The sun was reflected with dazzling brilliancy from their icy summits, and wonderful lights sparkled in rainbow tints on their slopes. Delicate pink deepened to rose crimson; pale greens softened into the beryl blue of stupendous glaciers, vast frozen cataracts which flowed down deep and broad clefts almost to the water’s edge.
Above these color-bands, the dead-white mantle of everlasting snow spread its folds, with here and there a black ridge of granite thrusting wind-cleared fangs high above the far-flung shroud. But, if the crests of peak upon peak were thus clothed in white, their bases wore a garment of different texture. Save on the seaward terraces of stark rock, with their tide-marked base of weed-covered boulders, the densest vegetation known to mankind imposed everywhere a first barrier to human progress far more unconquerable than the awesome regions beyond. Pine forests of extraordinary density crammed each available yard of space, until the tree-growth yielded perforce to hardier Alpine moss and lichens. This lower belt of deepest green ranged from five hundred to one thousand feet in height, as conditions were adverse or favorable; waterfalls abounded; each tiny glen held its foaming rivulet, rushing madly down the steep, or leaping in fine cascades from one rocky escarpment to another. Courtenay, after an astounded glance at the magnitude and solemn grandeur of the spectacle, had eyes for naught save the conformation of the channel. The change in the wind was caused, he found, by the northerly headland thrusting its giant mass a mile, or more, westward of its twin; but he quickly discovered, from the conformation of the land, that the latter was really the protecting cape of the inner water-way. He reasoned, therefore, that the deep-water channel flowed close to the northern shore until it was flung off by the relentless rocks to seek the easier inlet behind the opposite point.